


it's the way we are together

by roofpizza



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-05-26 19:28:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 78,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6252532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roofpizza/pseuds/roofpizza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry leans against the shelf and opens his mouth to say something witty and probably super sexy when Niall interrupts him with a snort. “Do those kinds of lines get you anywhere?”</p><p>“Most of the time,” Harry shrugs, and it’s true, because he has quite a bit of charm, and it tends to work in his favor, despite his cheesy lines. “I’m charming.”</p><p>“I suppose you are,” Niall laughs, and Harry can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. you're the one who sparked this

It occurs to Harry, just as they pull up to the driveway, that he forgot to pack his winter coat.

“I think you may be overestimating how cold it actually gets here,” Mark says, giving him a skeptical look as he turns off the ignition.

Harry twists at the ring on his middle left finger as he takes a long look at the house. He hasn’t been here in nearly two years; it seems bigger. “I don’t think I am, but thank you, Mark.”

Mark snorts once before getting out of the car. “Help me with your bags, will you?” he calls behind him. “You brought most of your wardrobe, at least.”

That is inaccurate, Harry thinks as he climbs out of the SUV. He’d only brought two suitcases, a hatbox, and his carryon, but he’s supposed to be staying here for nearly a year, so he thinks Mark’s rudeness is unwarranted. 

“I’m prepared,” Harry says, finally. “I don’t think it’s a crime to not live in a white t-shirt and jeans.” He aims a pointed frown at Mark’s retreating back.

“I would be flipping you off if I wasn’t holding your stupid bags,” Mark says, dryly. “Are these all Louis Vuitton, you piece of shit?”

“They were gifts,” Harry says, pouting as he picks up the rest of his belongings. He follows Mark inside, dropping his bags in the foyer. “The last time I was here, you were nicer.”

“The last time you were here,” Mark calls from somewhere in the living room. “I didn’t have a pregnant wife and a mini-van.”

“Where’s Gem anyway?” Harry asks, absentmindedly going through his jacket pockets. 

“Hey, asshole,” Gemma calls from her place lying on the loveseat. She doesn’t even bother looking up from the iPad sitting on top of her bulging belly.

“Lovely to see you too, Gems,” Harry deadpans. He heaves a tragic sigh and dumps himself on the sofa. “Gone for a year and this is the homecoming I get?”

“This isn’t your home,” Mark says, walking back into the living room. He turns to Gemma then, “He knows this isn’t really his home, right? I know he’s technically homeless right now, but—”

“Heyyy…” 

“We can’t have two babies in this house at the same time.”

Gemma rolls her eyes. “He’s helping us out, OK? Dial it down a notch for the next few months.”

“Fine,” Mark huffs, and starts walking up the stairs. “But my closet is staying locked. The rest of my flannels won’t be sacrificed in the name of his so-called sense of style.”

“You cut one shirt up and suddenly you can’t be trusted,” Harry huffs, affronted. 

“You know how he gets,” Gemma mumbles, and then finally looks up at him, playful smile on her face. “Come here and give me a hug, dickhead.”

He does as he’s told, scrambling and nearly falling on the coffee table as he makes his way to his sister. He hugs her like she’s made of glass, at which she snorts and pulls him closer. “We’re not gonna break, dummy.”

“You might,” Harry mumbles, and places his right hand delicately on Gemma’s stomach. “How are you feeling, Gems?”

She sighs, running a hand through his unruly hair. “Tired, mostly. Hungry. Like every part of my body is swollen. But it’s not nearly as scary as I thought it would be.”

He nods in quiet understanding. He’d been at the receiving end of a panicked phone call the night she’d taken her first pregnancy test. Nearly five months later and he can see how settled she’s become with the idea of motherhood. It suits her.

“You’re glowing,” Harry tells her. She just rolls her eyes but ruffles his hair affectionately. 

~

The salad is turning out quite nice, as far as Harry is concerned. It’s not like the ones he usually makes—he’s not allowed to use kale—but it’s pretty, and the dressing he made is pleasantly tangy. He’s had time to get familiar with Gemma’s kitchen throughout the week, and he finds that he’s found his way around it, as well as the rest of the house, pretty easily.

He’s carrying the huge bowl out to the backyard when he’s intercepted by Gemma.

“You shouldn’t be walking,” Harry informs her, frowning. 

Gemma rolls her eyes and pushes past him. “I’m only going to the linen closet to get some towels,” she says. “The Donner kids dumped juice on each other’s heads.”

“That’s so cute,” Harry coos facetiously. 

“You’re a dick,” Gemma calls behind her as she turns the corner. 

He gasps. “Think of the children!” He doesn’t get a reply, so he shrugs it off and walks out onto the backyard. 

Gemma’s neighbors are milling about in the yard, familiar and comfortable. Harry places the salad on the picnic table set up under the tent Mark and him had spent an hour setting up and takes in his surroundings. It’s a humid September day, but he can feel a light breeze through his t-shirt. There are kids running around in the grass, as well as a Labrador puppy, and Harry can’t help but be a little taken by the…suburban-ness of it all.

“Hey,” he hears as Mark approaches him. “You seen the bag of tortilla chips? The adults are getting hungry and annoying, and nobody’s allowed to drink hard liquor in front of the children.”

“They’re in the pantry, like the rest of your food.” Harry rolls his eyes. “And aren’t you supposed to be manning the grill? Isn’t that your one job?”

“You offered to make the salad, idiot,” Mark informs him. “And Niall basically bullied himself onto the grill, so whatever. If the food is burnt it’s not on me.” He starts walking back inside the house. “Don’t congratulate anyone on an unconfirmed pregnancy while you’re out here on your own.”

“That doesn’t happen that often,” he pouts, but Mark has already walked away.

He gives the yard another cursory glance and realizes that yeah, somebody else is manning the grill instead of Mark. Indeed, that somebody is blonde and wiry under his tank top and shorts, his shoulders already reddening from the exposure to the sun. He’s wearing sunglasses, and he’s currently knocking back a bottle of Corona with one hand and holding a pair of tongs with the other. He looks like a raunchy country song. 

“I would open with a threat about burning our sustenance,” Harry says as he saunters (yes, indeed) to the hot blonde neighbor. Or, he assumes he’s a neighbor; this party is a monthly neighborhood event, as Mark had reminded him about 50 times while threatening him to kick his ass if he made their neighbors hate them. “But you look like you know your way around a hunk of beef.”

The blonde lets out a full-body cackle, throwing his head back to reveal a pale neck. His clavicles are so pretty. “Dude, that is one of the worst pick-up lines I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“But not _the_ worst,” Harry says, hoping the glint in his eye can be seen even through his aviators. 

The guy’s own wayfayers don’t let Harry see his eyes, but Harry thinks he can see him rolling them. He doesn’t proceed to tell Harry to fuck off, so he takes this as an opening.

“I’m Gemma’s brother,” Harry says, and extends a hand. “And I might not be the most clever, but I did make you laugh.”

“I suppose.” The guy’s face transforms from annoyed to partially charmed, and he takes Harry’s hand. “I’m Niall. I live in the white one-story down the block. The one with the red door. Gemma’s talked about you a few times, I think. Globe-trotting writer, right?”

“My reputation precedes me,” Harry smiles. “Niall, do you know what red doors signified during the old days?”

“I don’t,” Niall chuckles, turning the burgers on the grill. “But by that smirk on your face, I can tell it’s not gonna be a very nice thing.”

“Well, it depends on your definition of ‘nice,’” Harry says.

“I think,” Niall says, finally pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head. Harry almost tells him to put his sunglasses back on, because the brilliance and depth of his blue eyes throws him for a loop, and he can feel his charming façade slipping somewhat. “Mine might be a little different from yours.”

Harry bites his lips and opens his mouth to say something like ‘ _Maybe we should find out_ ’ or ‘ _Take me on this picnic table I haven’t had sex in the whole month it took me to get back to this country_ ’ when two tiny children with wild curly brown hair come running into Niall’s legs. They’re yelling unintelligibly in unison, and Harry doesn’t really understand anything until Niall crouches down to get to their eye level.

“I can’t understand you when you talk over each other,” Niall informs them, one hand on each of their shoulders. “Annie, tell me what happened.”

The little girl—Annie—takes a deep breath and says, in her tiny voice, “We’re _trying_ to play pirates, but Robbie says he wants to be captain, but _I’m_ captain. Tell him I’m captain, Papi.”

“OK, now it’s Robbie’s turn,” Niall says, and jostles the little boy to signal for him to start his version of the story.

“Why does Annie have to be captain?” Robbie starts, stomping his foot into the grass in frustration. “She always says she’s the captain; she _never_ lets me.”

Niall nods in understanding. “OK, here’s the deal.” He turns to Annie. “You can’t decide who is who, petal. You have to _ask_ the people you’re playing with how they feel about the game, it’s what’s fair. If you don’t, you end up making someone mad.” He ruffles her hair to soften the blow, and then he turns to the boy. “And you can’t let your sister boss you around all the time, baby. You gotta learn how to stand up for yourself, OK?”

Robbie nods, and he looks like he’s about to cry, but Niall presses a kiss to his forehead to soothe him. 

“Now be nice to each other,” Niall tells them. “I don’t want to hear about you two getting into a fight with each other or with the other kids, OK?”

“Yes, Papi,” the kids say in unison. 

“C’mon,” Annie says, holding Robbie’s hand in her own. “We can both be captains of our own ships. That way, we can find treasures faster.”

“That’s so smart, Annie,” Harry hears Robbie say as they walk away from them. The last thing he hears before they start running is Annie saying, “I know.”

When they’re out of sight, Niall finally straightens up. “I hope these aren’t burnt,” he mumbles, and takes the patties off the grill to put them in a Tupperware. 

“That was so cute,” Harry says, finally, and nudges Niall’s hip with his own. “Those kids really listened to you.

Niall snorts. “Yeah, well they better.”

“What?” Harry asks.

“What kind of father would I be if I couldn’t handle a silly fight like that?” Niall laughs, and smiles at him once before hoisting the big bowl of grilled food onto his arms and walking away from him. His declaration of “Food’s up!” is received with a chorus of grateful moans from the parents.

Harry looks at the two kids with golden skin and thick curly hair and notices how red their cheeks are the dimple on their chins, and—

Oh, of course. 

~

Harry’s trying not to stare at the little family unit like a creep, but Niall didn’t stop being cute when Harry realized he was a father of two. He tries to focus on the various conversations going on around him, but his attention keeps returning to the little trio. Harry is trying very hard to listen to an older mom talk about her ten-year-old’s propensity to adopt stray animals without telling his parents when he turns to look at Niall laughing uproariously at something the twins have said. 

He politely excuses himself from the conversation and drifts to where Gemma is seated on one of the lawn chairs, a paper plate balanced on her belly. 

“Check this out,” Gemma says, letting go of the plate and gesturing at how the plate doesn’t fall. “Cool, right?”

“You can join the circus now,” Harry mumbles before taking a sip of his beer. She waves him off and goes back to her potato salad, which she’d always hated up until a few months ago. “Hey, I was gonna ask about one of your neighbors…”

“You’re gonna have to be a little bit more specific there, baby brother,” Gemma laughs. “We’re at a neighborhood potluck.”

Harry rolls his eyes before leaning down a bit to ruffle her hair. She swats him off, and he hisses in fake pain before speaking again. “I mean the cute blonde with the twins.”

“Oh, Niall,” Gemma wipes at some sweat that’s gathered on her upper lip before setting her plate down on the small table next to her. “I think he moved here like six months after we did?”

“Where’s the kids’ mom?” Harry asks, not bothering to pretend to be casual. It’s Gemma. She knows when he’s doing recon on someone. 

“They’re not together, if that’s what you really wanna know,” Gemma sighs but doesn’t offer more information. She’s not gonna make this easy.

Gemma might be stubborn, but Harry can give as good as he gets, so he just rolls his eyes and asks how old the kids are.

“They turned four in May,” she answers. Harry doesn’t ask her how old Niall is, but he doesn’t look much older than himself, which means that he must have had them when he was 22 at least. At 22, Harry was finishing his undergrad and getting his first gigs and working as an intern for Vulture. He hadn’t even considered having a serious girlfriend, let alone children. 

He doesn’t get much time to dwell on it when he notices a woman with a baby in her arms approach Gemma. 

“Oh, I haven’t seen you today, pretty girl!” Gemma coos, holding her arms up for the woman to hand her the baby. The woman laughs good-naturedly and hands her gently over. “Oh, aren’t you the prettiest girl in the whole world?” 

“Hi,” Harry turns to the woman, realizing that Gemma will probably be occupied for some time. “I’m Harry, Gemma’s brother.”

“I’m Fatima,” she says, and when she smiles warmly at Harry, the beauty of her face multiplies tenfold. “I live about five houses down the road.”

He’s a bit struck by her beautiful smile, so he doesn’t notice another person joining their party until they’re pulling Fatima into a hug from behind.

“Hey, man,” the guy that’s wrapped his arms around Fatima’s torso greets him with a nod of his head.

“Zayn, this is Gemma’s brother, Harry,” Fatima informs the beautiful man currently placing his chin on her shoulder. “Harry, this is my husband, Zayn.”

“Oh wow,” Harry says dumbly, struck dumb at how beautiful and young this couple is. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

Zayn’s face transforms from the quietly assessing expression he had to a slow and strikingly beautiful smile. “Nice to meet you, bro.”

“Zayn, you’re pulling at it,” Fatima mumbles, pulling away from him while she starts adjusting the creamy hijab that’s shifted a little around her face. 

“Sorry babe,” Zayn says, squeezing her hip once before walking towards Gemma, who’s got a fussy-looking baby in her hands. 

“Someone wants their daddy,” Gemma laughs, handing the little baby over. 

“Oh, what’s her name?” Harry asks just as the baby lets out an adorable sneeze.

Zayn lets out a quiet laugh before hitting Harry with a beautiful, friendly smile and saying, “Her name is Saliha, and she’s six months in two weeks.”

Harry warms up at this, and leans in to talk to his wife, “She’s very cute.”

“She’s beautiful,” Zayn mumbles, not taking his eyes off her. His wife runs a loving hand through his hair, then turns her attention back to Harry. “Gemma mentioned that you were going to be helping her for a little while,” she says. “That’s so sweet of you to do.”

Zayn brushes a stray hair away from his daughter’s face and chimes in, “Yeah, it’s cool, man.”

Harry shrugs. “I can work anywhere, and it’s the least I could do, I guess. Free rent for a couple months isn’t so bad either.”

“I suppose we can expect to see a lot of each other then?” Fatima says with a smile.

“Maybe I’ll drop by to borrow a cup of sugar,” Harry agrees, smiling back. Fatima and Zayn both laugh amicably, and little Saliha even lets out a little sigh. “She’s so quiet.”

“She’s a good baby,” Gemma chimes in, looking fondly at the baby. “I hope I’m that lucky.”

“Sali!” comes a high-pitched voice before a little body appears between Harry and Zayn. When Harry looks down, he sees Niall’s daughter bouncing up and down, her eyes never leaving the little baby. “Can I hold her, _please_?”

“You’re too little, Annie,” comes Niall’s voice as he approaches them, bottle of beer in his hand. He runs a hand down her thick head of hair. “You gotta be sitting down, I’ve told you.”

“It’s all right, Niall—” Fatima starts, laughter breaking up her voice.

“That’s the rule,” Niall tells her, not unkindly, and Annie lets out a long and dramatic sigh that is probably more for show than for actual disappointment. “I think that rule is dumb.”

“Well, it’s too bad you don’t make the rules,” Niall retorts but pulls Annie close to him. She’s pouting, but she wraps her arms around his legs anyway. “You’ll get to play with her in a little bit, petal, I promise.”

“As long as you _promise_ ,” Annie says, looking up at her father as if to make sure that he won’t lie to her.

“Cross my heart,” Niall smiles, and bends down to pick her up. “Kiss?”

She presses a quick kiss on his cheek, and Niall reciprocates by attacking her own face with a quick succession of kisses, which makes her giggle happily. 

Harry can’t help his smile when he looks on at the pair, and when his attention turns to Gemma, he can see she’s got a wide smile on her face too. He knows she’s been somewhat frightened about her pregnancy, especially since her doctor put her on bed rest, but he thinks this small display of easy affection between a father and his daughter will give her a semblance of peace for a while.

“Hi there. Again.” Finally, Niall seems to notice Harry, and he shoots him a smile as he hikes Annie up higher on his hip. “Annie, this is Harry, Gemma’s brother. Harry, this is my daughter, Annie.”

“Hello,” Harry smiles at Annie, who seems to be sizing him up in the way only four-year-olds can. He extends his hand for her to shake, and he takes a long look at it before taking it. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Hi,” she says, giving Harry’s hand a shake before pulling it away to wrap it around her dad’s shoulders. Niall presses a kiss on the top of her head before speaking to Harry again, “Gemma mentioned before you were gonna stay with them to help out with the baby?”

“Yeah,” Harry shrugs, reluctant to return to the subject. “It’s whatever.”

“Not to beat a dead horse, but it is a really helpful thing you’re doing,” Fatima says, and Harry shoots her a smile. “My family lives on the other side of town, but it could’ve been helpful to have my sisters right here if I needed them.”

He waves off the compliment, “She would’ve done the same for me.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Gemma retorts, but he knows she would.

“Well, if either of you need anything,” Niall laughs. “I’ve got some experience. Besides, and I know it’s a bit cliché, it does take a village.”

Niall shoots Harry a quick and easy smile before turning back to Gemma. “Wish my brother had been so eager to help me out.”

“To be fair to Greg,” Mark says as he seems to materialize next to Harry. “He’s got a home and a son and a wife. Harry’s life is empty.”

Harry frowns at him, and Gemma shoves him a little. “Cool it, all right? Harry is doing us a favor.” She turns to Harry. “We really do appreciate it, Harry.”

Harry shrugs once again. “That’s what brothers are for.”

“Welcome to the neighborhood,” Niall smiles at Harry, and they keep eye contact until Annie captures his attention once again. And maybe his intentions had been surprisingly noble when he signed up to help Gemma and Mark out with the baby. But the furtive glance he gives Niall’s lips are making him think that maybe he can enjoy himself a little bit too. 

~

The rest of the afternoon had been pretty low-key, and Harry had gotten to know a lot of Gemma and Mark’s neighbors. He’d ended up with Zayn and Fatima’s numbers, as Fatima had insisted that if he or Gemma needed anything, he should not hesitate to call. It’s a few hours later, and almost everybody has gone home, so Harry is tidying up in the kitchen while Gemma rests and Mark cleans up in the backyard. Harry is putting some leftovers in the fridge, when he hears a pair of feet scramble into the kitchen.

He turns slightly to look behind him and spots little Robbie hiding behind a kitchen chair.

“Hey, pal,” Harry, says, shutting the refrigerator door. He turns and takes a reluctant step toward where Robbie’s head is peaking from behind the chair. “Do you need something?”

Robbie seems to hesitate before shyly mumbling, “I lost my hat.”

“Oh,” Harry says dumbly. “Did you leave it here?”

Robbie shrugs. “I don’t remember.”

“Well,” Harry says, bringing his hands to his hips. “Let’s take a look around, huh?”

Harry digs around the kitchen while Robbie looks through the lower drawers that he can reach. Harry’s got his head inside the cabinet where they keep the bowls when he hears more feet approach and a breathless, “There you are.”

“Papi, I can’t find my hat,” Robbie says just as Niall lifts him up.

“Your sister’s wearing it, darling,” Niall informs him. “You lent it to her earlier, remember?”

“Oh,” Robbie says, his little eyebrows furrowing a little. “I forgot.” He turns to Harry then. “My sister has my hat, so you can stop looking for it if you want.”

Harry lets out a surprised laugh at that, and he looks up at Niall to see him smiling widely.

“Robbie, don’t forget to thank Harry here for helping you look for your hat,” Niall tells him, running a hand through Robbie’s hair.

“Thank you Harry!” Robbie says, bouncing in Niall’s arms.

Niall sets him down again and says, “Go get your sister; we have to get you guys to your mom before it gets too dark, OK? And don’t run!” 

Robbie speed-walks away from the kitchen to find his sister, leaving Niall and Harry alone for the first time since Harry had flirted with Niall.

“Thanks for humoring him,” Niall says, breaking the silence. “He’s a little absent-minded. He’d forget his own head if it wasn’t screwed on.”

“He’s cute,” Harry says, and starts rearranging some things on the kitchen table to keep his hands busy. “Your kids are cute.”

“Thanks,” Niall beams, and Harry is suddenly reminded that, yeah, Niall is really damn attractive.

“I guess it must be hereditary,” Harry observes, and when he looks up at Niall from the table, he notices that his cheeks have turned pink. 

“Um,” Niall clears his throat, and his smile looks nervous, but Harry hopes he’s also flattered. “Yeah, I think they might get that from their mother.”

Harry considers himself to be a pretty perceptive person, and the way Niall has not been discouraging Harry’s rather overt flirting makes him think he might be interested. He opens his mouth to maybe ask for Niall’s own number when the twins rush into the kitchen.

“Are we ready?” Niall asks his kids, who nod and say “Yes, Papi” in response. Niall turns back to Harry and shoots him a quick smile before saying, “It was nice meeting you, Harry. See you ‘round the neighborhood.” Niall turns to his kids and tells them to say goodbye to Harry too, and they say “Bye, Harry” in unison before being shuffled out the door by their dad.

They’re gone before Harry can close his stupid mouth.

~

Harry finds that he enjoys running in the late afternoons in this neighborhood. He’s used to running in the mornings, but here, that happens to be one of the busiest times, with people rushing out of their homes to go to work or to drop their kids off at school. He’s always liked starting his days early, and a long run had always helped him get his day started. Here, though, he does yoga in the morning and leaves his jogging to late in the evening, right before dinner. 

It’s almost two full weeks since he moved in with Gemma, and today he’s changed his route around a little, taking a left turn at the end of the road instead of a right one. It’s muggy, the type of hot and humid that means it will probably rain tomorrow, and so he opts to go shirtless. 

He doesn’t run to music, likes to hear the sounds of the environment during his runs, so he hears the music of the neighborhood as he makes his way down the street at a steady pace.

For a while, he gets lost in the sound of his shoes hitting the pavement. Finally, when he stops for a moment to look down at his watch he realizes that he’s been running for nearly an hour. He begins heading back to Gemma’s, pace a little slower than before.

At this hour, on a Friday like this, Harry would be getting home from running some errands and begin to get ready for dinner with friends or a gallery opening or maybe even a casual date. He doesn’t exactly feel uncomfortable here—Gemma’s his best friend, he’s grateful that he’s getting this time to spend with her. It’s just that he doesn’t know how to navigate this kind of life. He doesn’t have any experience with mini-vans and cookie-cutter houses and quiet nights in.

He slows down to a stroll, the strain of the hour-long jog finally getting to him. He passes a one-story painted a vibrant royal blue, and Harry notices that the curtains are pulled open. He recognizes Zayn holding little Saliha in his arms, probably rocking her so she falls asleep. After a moment, Fatima comes into view, gesturing for Zayn to hand her over. Harry allows himself a moment to look into their intimate moment before he starts moving again. 

Before he can get too far, a blue Ford Focus starts pulling up to the driveway next to Zayn and Fatima’s home. Harry lets the car drive past him into the driveway before he begins walking again. This one-story’s cute, a lot like Zayn’s, but painted a simple white with a red door. It doesn’t click in Harry’s brain until he hears the car’s door open and close and he takes a cursory glance at whoever the driver was.

Harry hasn’t seen Niall since the barbecue two weeks ago, and he hasn’t really made anything of it, because, yeah, Harry had felt a connection that day. But it had only been for a few hours, and Harry hadn’t spent the following nights dreaming about Niall. He’d liked Niall, though, and he figures it doesn’t hurt to be friendly to a neighbor. 

“Hey there,” Harry calls out to Niall, who is looking through a stack of folders in his arms. He looks up, and Harry is reminded that a large part of him still thinks Niall is really cute. “How’s it going?”

“Good, yeah,” Niall says, smiling. “How are you? Gemma says she’s doing well, and I assume you’re partly responsible for that.”

Harry rolls his eyes self-deprecatingly. “I just help around a bit. Surprised she isn’t talking shit behind my back; she usually does that to every cute guy I’ve ever talked to.”

Harry stops talking as Niall’s face begins to flush. 

“I’m sure you deserve some credit,” Niall clears his throat. “It takes a lot of patience, trust me.”

“Yeah, um.” Harry shifts his weight from his left leg to the right, suddenly realizing that he’s shirtless. He’s not usually uncomfortable with clothelessness, but Niall’s pointed refusal to look at Harry’s bare chest is throwing him off. “How are your kids?”

“Good,” Niall says, nodding a few times. “Just dropped them off with their mom, so. They should have a good weekend.”

He knows Niall isn’t with his children’s mother, but being reminded of this bit of information piques Harry’s interest. It doesn’t mean that he’s single, and even if he was, at the moment it doesn’t look like he would entertain the idea of Harry seducing him. Are parents even allowed to have gross sex with strangers? It’s probably illegal.

“That’s nice,” Harry says dumbly. “Any wild plans for the weekend, then?”

“Yeah,” Niall says, patting the folders in his arms. “Bottle of wine, and a long romantic night with these case files. It’s gonna get real sexy up in the Horan household.”

Harry can’t help the snort that comes out of his nose. “I’m jealous.”

“Of me or the files?” Niall asks, and he looks like he realizes he’s made a mistake as his face starts to turn red. 

And the thing is.

The Niall that’s standing before him is still as blonde and as cute as the one Harry first laid eyes on. Except he isn’t wearing sunglasses, and his eyes are the cornflower blue that people write songs about. And he’s blonde, blonde and wiry and totally his type if his track record is anything to go by and a chin on his dimple that is just the right side of too much. And instead of a tank top, he’s wearing slacks and a button-up that’s rolled up to his elbows. He’s a vision.

“The files,” Harry says, decisively. “Definitely the files.”

Niall’s cheeks redden, but his smile turns from reluctant to somewhat pleased. Harry opens his mouth to maybe try to get himself invited inside when his phone starts ringing in his pocket.

“Sorry, I should take this,” Harry says after taking a brief look down and noticing the name on the screen. “I’ll see you around?”

“See you ‘round,” Niall nods, and he shoots Harry one last smile before turning around to head inside. 

Harry curses the horrible timing before bringing his phone to his ear. “How’s it going, Lou?”

“You’re in town, and I only find out by looking at Gemma’s Facebook?” Louis asks, annoyed and making Harry want to hang up immediately. Faintly, he thinks he hears Liam’s voice in the background saying something that sounds like, “ _Don’t open with that, Louis_!”

“I’ve been busy.” Harry can’t help the smile that spreads over his face as Liam and Louis start bickering, and he starts walking down the street toward Gemma’s. “I wasn’t trying to avoid you.”

“I don’t care,” Louis says, short and Harry rolls his eyes. “Liam saw it and he’s looked like a kicked puppy ever since. He thinks you’re mad at him or some shit, and that’s why you haven’t called.” 

“ _No I didn’t_!” Liam calls out, and Harry can hear more shuffling on their end.

“I’m not mad at Liam,” Harry assures them, frowning at even the thought of a guilt-ridden Liam. “I couldn’t be mad at Liam, even if I tried.”

“That’s what I said,” Louis sighs, and Liam is probably letting out a relieved sigh, if Harry knows him at all. He hears snatches of the muffled conversation they’re having, and he considers hanging up before Louis is back on the line. “OK, well, Liam desperately wants a night out, so if you could take some time out of your busy schedule—”

“ _Louis_!” Harry hears Liam scold him, and Harry is nearly at Gemma’s front door when their conversation gets back on track. 

“I think I can drive into the city tomorrow night,” Harry says, unlocking the door and shuffling inside. “If you’d like.”

“Whatever,” Louis says, but Harry can hear Liam cheer in the background. “Text me the details, asshole. Don’t forget.”

“ _We’re gonna have so much fun_!” Harry hears Liam call out before Louis hangs up on him.

Gemma is sitting on the couch, reading one of her pregnancy manuals, and getting her feet rubbed by Mark.

“How was your run?” Gemma asks, setting her book on her belly. “We ordered some pizza. I hope that doesn’t go against any of your food rules.”

“As long as it’s thin crust,” Harry says, flapping a dismissive hand in the air. “Hey, can I borrow your car this weekend? I was thinking about visiting some friends in the city.”

“Sure,” Gemma says, picking her book back up. “Mark’ll be home, so we won’t really need you, I don’t think. Knock yourself out.”

“Just don’t get any vomit in it this time,” Mark says, not looking at him from where his eyes are locked on the episode of Teen Jeopardy on the TV. “If you get sick, you pull over. I don’t care if it’s in the middle of an intersection.”

Harry huffs out an offended puff of air and makes his way toward the guest bathroom. He needs a shower.

~

“Do you think we should get the calamari to start?” Liam asks, face buried in the menu that their waiter had just handed them. “I’ve been craving it, but I wouldn’t want to order it if you guys don’t want any.”

“Sure, Liam,” Louis says after taking a long pull from his beer. 

“I’d love some,” Harry smiles at Liam, who grins back before going back to his menu. “This is a nice place. It’s got cloth napkins and everything.”

“If we’d had it my way we’d be at a Chili’s right now,” Louis mumbles before he closes his menu. “But Liam said we couldn’t.”

“I wanted to do something nice!” Liam argues, and Harry rolls his eyes at how familiar this is. “We haven’t seen Harry in so long. I wanted it to be nice, that’s all.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Louis snorts, but he’s got that soft look he only gets when Liam is being equally silly and earnest. “But you should try the scallops—they’re really good.”

Harry hides his smile behind his own menu, because he knows if Louis sees him showing genuine emotion, he won’t stop making fun. But he’s missed his friends, and if he’s honest with himself, the opportunity to get to see Louis and Liam more often is a part of why he’d decided to stay with Gemma.

After they’ve ordered, Liam doesn’t waste time before he zeroes his focus on Harry. “So,” Liam starts, folding his hands on top of the table. “How’s things? How’s Gemma?”

“Good,” Harry answers, running a finger around the rim of his wine glass. “Suburban. Quiet. She’s been doing good, though. And she’s getting huge—you should see her, she’s like…real life pregnant.”

“You bored yet?” Louis asks before taking a swig from his beer, and Harry sees Liam shoot Louis a glare. “Hasn’t it been nearly a month?”

“I’m not bored,” Harry assures him, rolling his eyes. “And contrary to your misinformed disbelief, I can stay in one place for extended periods of time.”

“Evidence points to the contrary, but I’ll withhold my skepticism for now.”

“I appreciate it,” Harry smiles, and takes a drink of wine. “How’s my godson?”

“You are not my son’s godfather,” Louis snaps, and Liam lets out a delighted laugh. “Freddie’s fine. He started the first grade last week, which is ridiculous; I didn’t give him permission to get older.”

They continue to catch up on each other’s lives throughout the night, and Harry laughs more during dinner than he can remember doing in a long time. After they’re finished with dinner and Liam is leading them to his apartment for a nightcap it occurs to Harry that he can do this same thing next week if he likes, and the week after that as well. In fact, a few hours later, when he’s drunk off boxed wine, he suggests they do this next week. 

He frowns, however, when Liam and Louis turn to look at each other and have a short but silent conversation with their eyes. He’s always hated their weird telepathy. 

“Well, of course!” Liam says, confused smile playing on his face. “I’m sorry, it’s just…this hasn’t happened in a while.”

“What hasn’t happened?” Harry sits up from where he’d been lying down on Liam’s living room floor. 

“You sticking around for longer than a week,” Louis replies from his own spot on the recliner. He seems surprisingly sober, which makes Harry’s frown deepen. “No offense bro, but I’m half expecting you to bolt by Wednesday.”

“I’m not that flighty,” Harry argues, crossing his legs and nearly hitting his knee with the coffee table. “I’m not, and we are hanging out next weekend.”

Liam shrugs, smile turning happy again. “All right. Next week it is!”

~

Liam had been kind enough to let Harry crash in his guest bedroom, as well as to let him use his shower. He’s still surprised by how hard his hangover’s got a hold of him, but he forces himself to face the day and drive back to Gemma’s.

When he gets home, he thinks he’ll take a nap or make himself a smoothie, but his plans are derailed when Gemma asks him if he can go to the hardware store to pick up some stuff. 

“Where’s Mark?” Harry asks, but what he actually means is “Why can’t Mark do it?” He only just contains himself from stomping his foot.

“He’s running some errands with his mom,” Gemma sighs, and gives him a look that actually means “Please do this for me.” 

He changes into a pair of sweatpants and an old Berkley t-shirt and heads back out.

The fluorescent lights inside the hardware store are not helping Harry’s hangover one bit, and even through his sunglasses, he squints as he looks at the different kinds of screws displayed in front of him. He isn’t really sure what all these materials will be used for, but he’s heard Mark talk about how determined he is to build his baby their own crib with his own hands (“My father built my crib.” “Your father was a mountain man, honey. You’re a city planner.”). 

He dumps a random pack of screws into his basket and turns around to find one of the sales associates to ask them where he can find wood glue when he sees none other than Zayn and Niall walking toward him.

“Hiya.” Harry tries for a bright smile, but it probably comes out like a wince. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“What are the odds,” Zayn says, and the smirk he shoots at Niall makes Harry frown, confused. For his part, Niall only coughs and shoots Harry a strained smile. “Nice sunglasses.”

“Yeah, um,” Harry starts, awkwardly pushing his glasses onto the top of his head so he doesn’t make himself look like more of an asshole. “A bit light sensitive today.”

“Fun night?” Niall asks. He’s leaning forward against the cart, casual as anything. “I imagine your life is a bit more exciting than ours.”

“Just had a bit too much wine, that’s all,” Harry shrugs, and the small laugh Niall lets out makes Harry’s heart do a weird thing. 

“I miss wine,” Zayn observes, expression going vaguely wistful. “And weed. God…I miss weed so much.”

Niall lets out a full body cackle and slaps a hand on Zayn’s back. “You’re an exemplary father, Zayner.”

In response, Zayn just sighs and waves him off. “I’m gonna go get the fucking spackling paste, man.”

“Yeah, I’ll catch up with you,” Niall says, and Zayn walks off after squeezing Niall’s hip briefly and shooting a nod at Harry.

“And then there were two,” Harry smiles, and Niall gestures at the basket that’s still in his hands. “You working on a big project?”

“Oh, yeah.” Harry hikes the basket higher against his hip. “Building a canoe in Gemma’s garage. Maybe after I finish it I could take you for a ride.”

“Um.” As usual, Niall blushes, but he clears his throat and seems to square up, as if he’s ready to give as good as Harry does. “I hear canoes aren’t the most stable of vehicles.”

“Well.” Harry shrugs and can’t stop the smirk forming on his lips. “I’m up for a bumpy ride now and again.”

Harry leans against the shelf and opens his mouth to say something witty and probably super sexy when Niall interrupts him with a snort. “Do those kinds of lines get you anywhere?”

“Most of the time,” Harry shrugs, and it’s true, because he has quite a bit of charm, and it tends to work in his favor, despite his cheesy lines. “I’m charming.”

“I suppose you are,” Niall laughs, and Harry can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.

“So are you charmed?” Harry asks, 

“Somewhat,” Niall admits, straightening up and drumming his fingers against the handle of the cart. “But you’re gonna have to try a little harder than that, Harry.”

“I’m not against a little bit of work,” Harry concedes, and Niall’s left eyebrow rises.

“’A little bit of work.’” Niall’s smile turns sly. “Sounds quite lazy, doesn't it? I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Harry can’t wipe the shocked smile off his face, and he takes a full minute to shake himself off and go about his business.


	2. close enough to you, i can't get

Despite having established a new and tentative friendship with Niall, Harry doesn’t expect to see him very often. And he doesn’t. Niall, who has nine-to-five and two little kids, doesn’t really cross paths with Harry, who spends days taking care of Gemma, and some nights of the week in the city either having dinner or drinks with Liam and Louis.

Sometimes, during his daily runs, he passes by Niall’s house, and at that time of day, he keeps the curtains of the living room windows open, so sometimes Harry will catch a glance of him reading through a file while his kids work on some drawings on the coffee table, or the twins dancing in front of the TV, or them eating dinner in the table next to the living room. And if the curtains are closed for whatever reason, Niall’s Focus is almost always on the driveway, but when it isn’t, Harry wonders where it is he goes.

“Does he go out?” Harry asks Zayn one Saturday afternoon. Harry’s sitting in the rocking chair, holding little Saliha in his arms as he watches Zayn outline some stuff in pencil on the wall. Gemma had asked him to draw a mural for the nursery, and today he’s come over so he can start outlining the piece.

“Does who go out?” Zayn asks distractedly. He’s rubbing at the scruff on his chin and looking at the wall contemplatively.

“Niall,” Harry clarifies. He brushes a little wisp of Saliha’s dark hair off her forehead. “I was talking about Niall.”

“Were you?” Zayn says, dryly. “I thought we were talking about contemporary Chinese art.”

“Ai Weiwei can wait,” Harry shrugs, but softly so as not to wake up the baby. “Now tell me about Niall.”

“You’re not subtle, are you?” Zayn snorts, placing his pencil behind his ear.

“I’m just curious,” Harry tries. “Friendly-level curious. He’s just a little young to be a full time dad.”

Zayn takes a moment to think of a response. Harry worries that he’s offended him somehow and opens his mouth to apologize when he speaks again. “He’s only one year younger than me.”

It occurs to Harry that this is probably his cue to stop asking rude and invasive questions. Instead, he redirects his questioning. “So how did you and Fatima meet?”

Zayn snorts and finally turns his attention from the wall to Harry. “Our parents,” is all he says before walking toward Saliha, who has started to sniffle in wakefulness. 

“Did they…um…” Harry doesn’t know how appropriate it would be to ask how involved Zayn and Fatima’s parents had been in their match, but Fatima saves him by walking back to the room, holding two glasses of lemonade. Harry hands Fatima back her daughter in exchange for one of the glasses.

“What are you boys talking about?” Fatima asks, grabbing a hold of Saliha. 

“Harry was being nosey,” Zayn says before taking a sip. Harry turns his head up haughtily and clears his throat before speaking. “I was just asking how you guys met.”

“Oh.” Fatima tries to bite down on the slow grin taking over her face. “It’s not the most exciting story.”

Harry leans forward and places his chin on his hand. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Well,” Fatima starts, shifting little Saliha in her arms. “We went to the same high school, but he was two years older than me so we weren’t friends. Our families were friendly, because it’s such a small community, so I would babysit his little sisters when he went away to college.” Fatima wrinkles her brows in concentration. “I’m trying to remember when we saw each other again after you came back from college, Zayn.”

“It, um.” Zayn looks like he’d rather be stabbed in the eye than be having this conversation for Harry’s benefit, but he grits out a response anyway. “It was Doniya’s engagement party. It was the second week of July and, um.” Zayn looks down and nearly mumbles his next words. “You were wearing this peach-colored hijab.”

The smile that blooms on Fatima’s face could light up the whole city, Harry thinks. When Zayn looks up to meet her gaze she boops him playfully on the nose. “And you were wearing a leather jacket in the middle of summer, you silly.”

“It was my look,” Zayn says defensively, but his eyes are crinkled with his smile.

“It worked anyhow,” Fatima says. “Couldn’t keep my eyes off you, could I?” She finally turns her attention back to Harry. “My mother was scandalized. He comes back from college and he’s got this ugly van and all these tattoos; when I came home that night and told her I was gonna marry him she nearly had a stroke!”

“How long did you guys date before you got married?” Harry asks.

“A year?” Fatima says, looking at Zayn for reassurance. When he nods, she goes on. “But it took him six months to take me out to dinner. And even then, I didn’t know it was a date, because he took me to dinner with his family.”

Harry lets out a surprised laugh. He hasn’t spent a lot of time with Zayn, but he’d had this impression of him as too beautiful to be anything other than confident all the time. It’s a little reassuring to realize that he isn’t impervious to the occasional bout of shyness. 

“It was implied,” Zayn mumbles petulantly. 

“It doesn’t matter, does it?” Harry interjects. “You ended up together.”

“Yeah, but we could’ve gotten together much sooner,” Fatima argues. 

“Aw, well, I’m sorry, babes,” Zayn says, pulling her in to kiss her temple.

“It’s ok,” she mumbles, running a finger down Saliha’s cheek. “You’ve got time to make it up to me.”

~

A few hours later, when Fatima and Zayn have gone home, Harry’s on another run through the neighborhood when a familiar Focus drives up next to him.

Niall slows down and rolls down the windows. “Howdy, neighbor.”

“Howdy, pal.” Harry waves and shoots a cursory glance to the backseat of his car. “Day off?”

Niall lets out a short laugh. “Sort of. Kids are with their mom, but I went into the office for a little this morning.” He runs a hand quickly through his hair. “Then went to get my roots done. No such thing as natural beauty, you know.”

“My surgeons are well aware, yeah.” When Niall lets out a full cackle at that, Harry bites his lip to rein his grin a little. 

“Tell me your day was more exciting than mine,” Niall begs, rolling to a stop in front of his house. Harry hadn’t realized they were still moving.

“Ehm.” Harry pretends to think for a moment, and then sighs dramatically. “Zayn and Fatima came over to rub their beautiful love on my face. Did you know they’re actually disgusting?”

Niall snorts. “Yeah, true love will do that to ya.”

“Have you known them long?” Harry asks, half curious and half hoping their conversation will last a bit longer than the very short small talked they’ve had so far.

“We moved in around the same time,” Niall replies, drumming the fingers of his left hand on the steering wheel. 

“So are you two best friends?” Harry teases, and Niall rolls his eyes, but he replies with a sincere, “We have each other’s backs. And there’s very few young families on this neighborhood, if you haven’t noticed.”

Harry hadn’t noticed, but he also hasn’t really interacted with anyone else in the month he’s been living with Gemma. He takes a moment to try to remember who he’d seen at the potluck last month, but he gets distracted by the way Niall fiddles with his hair.

There’s a moment, right then, when Niall looks up at Harry and Harry is kind of caught, and Harry opens his mouth to say something charming and flirty. Just as quickly as the moment starts, it ends, and Niall only clears his throat before gesturing to his house. “I should go in. I’ll see you ‘round.”

“Yeah, of course.” Harry waves, and Niall shoots him a quick smile before rolling up his window and starting his car up again.

Harry spares his car one last glance before starting to run again. He’s only got half an hour to finish his run. He should get going. 

It’s only after he’s returned to the house that he realizes that the kids hadn’t been with Niall in the car.

~

The house is empty one Wednesday afternoon in the second week of October, and Harry is almost done with his daily yoga routine when the landline surprises him into falling like a lump on his mat. The landline only ever rings—if ever—after 4 pm, and usually it’s with people trying to sell them a timeshare, or something about their cable service, so he’s a little confused by the insistent and annoying noise. Any sane person would know not to call a landline if they really needed something.

“Hello?” Harry says when he brings the receiver up to his ear. “Styles-Bonneville residence, how can I—”

“Oh my God, sorry,” comes a familiar voice, all harried and out of breath. “I mean, hi—no, _sorry_ , oh my God, OK. Um. Harry? It’s Niall.”

“Hello, Niall.” Harry bends down to grab a towel from next to his mat to wipe his face. “What’s up?”

“I just—Are Gemma or Mark home?” Niall sounds weird, and Harry has a suspicion that he’s already called their cells with no avail.

“They’re at an ultrasound appointment,” Harry informs him, strolling toward the kitchen in search for a bottle of water. “Do you need me to leave them a message?”

“I—No, it’s just—” Niall breathes a shaky breath in. “I’m at the hospital with Annie and I don’t know how long I’ll be here and there’s no one that can watch Robbie. My mother-in-law had an accident the other day, so Alma’s at her own hospital with her and Zayn is at work and Fatima’s at work and there’s no one I can call—”

“Hey, breathe, all right?” Harry tries to make his voice sound soothing as he speed walks to his bedroom to find a shirt. “Is Annie all right?”

“She fell off the monkey bars and cut up her eyebrow. She stopped bleeding, but I think she’s gonna need stitches, Jesus.”

“Papi, you don’t look so good,” Harry hears faintly from the other line. “Do you need to see a doctor too?”

“No, petal, Pop’s is fine.” Niall takes a big breath in before turning his attention back to Harry. “Listen, I wouldn’t be asking this if I had anyone else to call—”

“You need me to pick up Robbie from school?” Harry asks, pulling a t-shirt from his drawer.

“No, I asked one of the moms from the school to pick him up, but…I need someone to look after him while I’m here with Annie. Do you think she could drop him off at Gemma’s?”

“Of course, Niall.” Harry sits down on the bed and runs a hand through his sweaty hair. He wonders if he’ll have time to shower before Robbie gets here.

“OK, well, Robbie should be home in about an hour, um. He doesn’t have any food allergies, but he doesn’t eat asparagus, because it scares him. Also, he’s pretty calm, but if he gets a little worked up, you can just turn the TV on to Animal Planet or something—he likes that.” Harry hears him breathe in and out again a few times before speaking again. “I really appreciate this, Harry.”

“It’s nothing, Niall,” Harry assures him. “Send Annie my love, all right? Robbie’ll be here when you’re done.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Niall says before Harry says goodbye and hangs up.

Harry dumps his cell on the bed. He needs a shower.

~

When Amaka, an older mom, had dropped him off, Robbie had been a little quiet and hesitant to talk to Harry. Harry had made him a peanut and butter and jelly sandwich, and, after politely if quietly thanking Harry, Robbie had been hesitant to say anything else. After some quietly encouraging words, however, Robbie had been more forthcoming when Harry had asked him about school and what had happened to his sister.

“It was so scary,” Robbie says with wide eyes. “But Ana didn’t cry at all. She’s so brave.”

“You’re brave too,” Harry tells him. “You’re here all by yourself and you’re not even scared.”

“You’re not scary.” Robbie looks at him with a confused frown on his face. “And if my dad likes you, you gotta be nice.”

Harry can’t help the smile that takes over his face. “I’m glad your dad likes me.”

“Do you like my dad?”

“Sure.”

After that, they move on to the living room, where Robbie asks Harry to explain the meaning behind all of Harry’s tattoos that he can see. Harry’s struggling to make Robbie forget that he ever saw the topless mermaid on his forearm when Gemma and Mark get home.

After that, Robbie shifts his focus to marveling at Gemma’s belly. He’s still asking Gemma questions about the baby when there’s a knock on the door.

“That’s probably Niall,” Harry says, getting up from his place in the loveseat. “Grab your stuff, pal. Your dad is probably exhausted.”

Harry hears a faint “OK!” as he makes his way toward the foyer. When he opens the door, the first thing that comes through his mind is how tired Niall looks. The second is—

“Where’s, um, I actually am not sure what to call her? You called her Annie, but Robbie called her Ana today so—” Harry stops spewing garbage out of his mouth hole when he sees the anguish playing on Niall’s features. “Is she all right?”

“Yeah, she,” Niall takes a deep breath in and out, seems to sag with the tension of the day. “She’s in the car, sleeping. She doesn’t have a concussion, thank god. And she only needed a few stitches.”

“That’s good to hear,” Harry says, and he only hesitates a little before placing a hand on Niall’s shoulder.

“I—” Niall runs a hand down his face. “Thanks, again, for taking care of him. I know I probably screwed up your day—”

“Don’t be silly,” Harry assures him, running his hand down Niall’s arm before pulling back. “Robbie’s a sweetheart; he was no trouble at all. Besides, that’s what neighbors are for.”

“Yeah. Listen, if you need anything, um.” Niall bites down at his lower lip. “I guess we should exchange numbers?” Niall turns a little red. “Just in case you do need anything,” he adds quickly.

“Of course.” Harry reaches for his back pocket just as Robbie bounds up next to him.

“Hi, papi,” Robbie calls out before Niall bends down to pick him up. “Hello, petal. Were you good to Harry?”

“Yes!” Robbie assures him, nodding enthusiastically. “He showed me his tattoos. I want as many as him, papi.”

“Oh, darlin’,” Niall coos sweetly at him. “That’s never happening.” Niall turns his attention back to Harry to dictate his number to him. “So if you need anything…”

“And if _you_ need anything,” Harry shoots back, grinning. “Send Annie my love, all right? And you.” Harry leans in to face Robbie. “Good job today, pal. You were a real champ.”

“Say thank you, Robbie,” Niall instructs, and Robbie does before hooking his arms around Niall’s neck. “Thank you.”

“You’re gonna have to stop saying that at some point.”

Harry can see some of the tension falling from his body. It makes Harry feel good. Niall’s eyes crinkle when he says, “Eventually.”

~

Harry doesn’t necessarily expect Niall to use his number, at least not right away, but the next morning, he wakes up to a text from him. 

_Hey it’s niall ! just texting to say thanks again for yesterday really appreciate it :D_

Harry grins down at his phone and types out _it was nothing xx_ then goes jumps out of bed. He thinks that’s that for the day, but Niall surprises him by continuing their conversation with casual chatter. He doesn’t think much of it, but it becomes something of a routine, and Harry finds himself exchanging texts with Niall throughout the week.

Two days later, he’s half listening to Gemma complain about her many ailments when he sends Niall a quick text.

_Gems won’t stop complaining about the size of her feet I don’t know how to placate her ☹_

A few minutes later, Gemma’s moved on to talking about her weird cravings when his phone vibrates in his pocket.

_Trust me bro there’s nothing you can say to a pregnant woman haha just buy her some ice cream or something_

He also sends a string of food emojis and the monkey covering its eyes, and Harry’s never been a fan of emojis, but he chuckles to himself and types out a quick _Noted xx_ before putting his phone away and getting up to look for his keys.

“Where are you going, dick?” Gemma snaps from her place on the couch. “I’m not done complaining at you.”

“Good thing you have a husband to listen to your whining. He’s half responsible for this mess anyway; why should I suffer for your mistake?”

“Are you calling my baby a mistake?” Gemma shrieks, and Harry pretends to contemplate this for a moment until Gemma’s nostrils flare up, and she opens her mouth to start cursing him out, most likely. He lets out an amused chuckle and rolls his eyes. “Relax. I’m just gonna bring you some ice cream. Don’t kill Mark if he gets back before I do, yeah?”

He shuffles out of the room before Gemma can find anything really painful to throw at him.

The next day, Harry is in the middle of going through his e-mails when his phone lights up with a new message. 

_Robbie started wearing a band aid on his eyebrow to match his sister ahaha !_

Harry smiles and quickly responds. 

_Photographic evidence, Mr. Horan_

A few minutes later, Niall sends a picture of the twins smiling brightly at the camera, Annie with a bandage over her injury and Robbie with a bright yellow band-aid on his own eyebrow. The caption reads a simple _My sillies_.

_Adorable xx_

Finally, the Friday after the accident finds Harry on his usual run. He’s on his usual way back, almost passing by Niall’s house when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket.

“Yeah?” Harry answers, slowing down to a jog and finally a stroll.

“Hey!” comes Niall’s voice through his headphones. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“What? No, of course not.” Harry stops running to catch his breath. “You have great timing, actually; I was just passing by your house.”

“Oh.” Harry hears some movement on the other side of the phone, and when he lifts his head to look at their home, Niall is pulling the curtains open. He simultaneously sees and hears Niall let out a cackle, before he hangs up the phone and waves at Harry to come toward the house. It’s only when Niall opens the door that Harry realizes how sweaty he is and that he chose to wear his rattiest pair of running shorts today. It doesn’t matter, Harry reminds himself, he’s impressed people wearing less dignified outfits before. 

“How are you?” Niall asks, opening the door wide. His smile is bright and open, and for a second Harry is struck by how sweet it is. “Do you wanna come in?”

It occurs to Harry that he doesn’t have to, and Mark will have dinner on the table pretty soon. But he also really does want to go in.

“Yeah, sure.”

Niall steps aside, and lets him in. This is the first time Harry’s had a good chance to really look inside his home.

The very first thing Harry notices is the collection of framed photographs lining the foyer wall. There are photos of the kids at different ages, of them with people Harry assumes are their grandparents. There’s also a portrait of someone who looks a lot like Niall and a woman and a kid, as well as one of those same people in the middle of playing with the twins. But the one that really captures Harry’s attention shows Niall holding a much smaller Robbie in his arms and a woman with beautiful golden skin, holding little Annie in her arms. They’re in the beach, and the wind is making their hair fly around them, and Niall is in the middle of laughing at something while the woman smiles at the camera. 

Harry’s about to ask about the photo, and if the woman in it is the kids’ mother as he suspects she is, when he notices Niall looking at him from where he’s tidying up in the living room.

“I’d apologize for the mess,” Niall says. “But when you’re raising a pair of four-year-olds it’s kind of useless.”

“I think your place is pretty clean,” Harry offers, and he finds that it’s actually true. There are some crayons and an assortment of toys and coloring books on the coffee table, but other than some stuffed animals on the floor, the living room is relatively neat. The entertainment system is neatly arranged, the furniture is minimalist, yet reasonable, and, most importantly, the whole space is comfortable. “It’s nice.”

“Thank you,” Niall says, heading to the kitchen. “Do you want anything? Water? You look tired.”

“Really?” Harry follows behind Niall. “I thought I looked sexy.”

Niall throws his head back and lets out a laugh, which Harry is starting to get pleasantly used to. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know—I’m just teasing.” Harry leans back against the counter. The kitchen is just as tidy as the living room, and Harry can’t help but smile at the seat boosters on the chairs. “Where are the kids?”

“They go to their mom’s in the weekends,” Niall says, looking through the fridge. “Do you want a beer?”

“Sure.” Niall straightens up and has two beers in his hands. He opens one and hands it to Harry, who tips it in thanks and takes a long pull. “How’s Annie’s head?”

Niall swallows a drink of beer, and pushes himself to sit on the counter. “She’s good. More excited to get a scar than anything, but that’s just Annie for ya.”

“Is she a bit of a rascal then?” Harry teases.

Niall snorts. “To say the least, bro.” Then he proceeds to launch into a story about Annie getting in trouble at a theme park one time when she nearly tricked her way into a roller coaster. “I lose sight of her for literally one second, and she’s running through this huge line of people. I swear, my heart nearly fell out of my butt.”

Harry counters that with a story of how, during a trip to Disneyland one year, Harry had apparently gotten lost for hours. Eventually, his panicked mom had found him inside Minnie’s house, just sitting down having a cup of fake tea. 

They exchange stories like this, eventually moving to the comfort of the living room couch Harry’s seen so many times but only now gets to feel under him. It’s so much more comfortable and cozy than the pictures he’d made up in his head whenever he’d stolen glimpses of it through their window. Niall listens intently to Harry’s stories about his pleasant, if quaint childhood. He tells him about their ranch house, of sneaking off to the meadow close to his house during the summers, when he was younger just to have time for himself and when he got older to bring girls and boys to impress. He tells him about doing his undergrad at Berkley, and Niall laughs uproariously at Harry’s story about his failed attempt at trying to have sex at one of the libraries. 

Niall is a good listener—he’s engaged, and open, and he doesn’t interrupt. He lets out the appropriate unconvinced scoff or horrified gasp or crackling laugh whenever it’s needed. Niall seems to be genuinely impressed by Harry’s life, and it makes Harry want to keep talking until a text from his phone informs him that it’s nearing ten-thirty. 

“Oh, wow.” Harry frowns down at the text from Gemma asking him where he is. He’d gone out at fifteen to eight; she must be wondering where he’s gone. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“I know.” Niall brings a hand up to his mouth when a yawn unexpectedly escapes from his mouth. Harry can’t help but notice the blush forming on Niall’s face. “You must think I’m so lame, getting sleepy at ten-thirty, huh?”

Harry shrugs. He doesn’t have twins and a nine-to-five, so who is he to judge? He tells Niall as much, and Niall laughs and says, “When you have kids, sleep becomes kind of a luxury, you know? You take as much of it as you can take.”

“I’ll be sure to pass that message along,” Harry says, already imagining Gemma and Mark’s matching scornful expressions. 

“How’s Gemma doing?” Niall asks, getting up after Harry. Harry stretches his arms over his head, feeling his back lose a little of its soreness after being immobile for a couple hours. 

“Bored. Grumpy.” Harry frowns at the memory of Gemma nearly stabbing him with a baby hanger when she realized she couldn’t fit into her favorite pair of shoes. “But I guess you have experience with this sort of thing.”

Niall shrugs once, quickly, seemingly unbothered by his own memories. It occurs to Harry that Niall is probably unbothered by a lot of things, lets trivial complaints roll of his back, something that makes him a good person to tell your problems to. “You know, it’s better to just let her complain. You can’t gestate this baby for her, you know? Better to just sit down and listen sometimes.” Niall laughs shortly. “I think this is better advice for Mark, no? Little brothers are supposed to function as proverbial punching bags.”

“Hey…” Harry whines, stopping just in front of the door to frown down at Niall. Harry’s taller than him, not by much, but enough to be noticeable. Harry likes it. “That’s not nice.

“Well, I’m a little brother too. Consider it solidarity amongst the troops.”

“Oh.” Harry didn’t know that, and, he realizes, this is the first time Niall has mentioned family members that aren’t his children all night. “I didn’t know that.”

“Now you do.” Niall lets out a short laugh and opens the door for him. “It was nice talking to you, Harry.”

“Yeah, I…” Harry trails off when he steps outside the door and looks back at Niall. Niall, who looks like he belongs in his home, looks like this is exactly where he’s supposed to be. “It was fun; we should do it again.”

Niall brightens up at that but only responds with a playful, “You know where I’ll be.” 

“And you know where I’ll be,” Harry counters, and Niall laughs fully when he says good night and closes the door in front of him. 

Harry is halfway home when he realizes he never asked Niall why he’d called.

~

Harry doesn’t know whether to call it a routine, but.

When Harry goes on his nightly runs, instead of passing by Niall’s home and throwing a quick glance to their window, he knocks on the door whenever he notices the car on the driveway. He’ll knock, and usually he’ll hear the kids’ tiny footsteps run to the door before Niall’s heavier, slower ones. Then Niall will open the door and Annie and Robbie will fight for Harry’s attention for five minutes before they lose interest and leave them to play with their toys. 

Harry usually only stays to chat for about fifteen minutes, but their conversations don’t start and end during Harry’s short visits. It doesn’t matter much what Harry’s doing during the day, he exchanges texts with Niall during whatever he’s doing.

A week after the night at Niall’s house, Harry has to travel to Chicago for a gallery opening. For some reason, two days before he’s set to fly out, Harry finds himself texting Niall an apology if he doesn’t come over and explains his trip. Niall proverbially waves him off via text message and insists that Harry come by that night to try out the flan the twins’ grandmother made him take when he’d dropped off the kids that day. Harry spent all day running errands with his mom and Gemma, and he is so exhausted by the things he has to get done tomorrow as well. So of course he pulls on a sweatshirt and heads over to Niall’s place. He likes flan.

Flan devolves to a passionate discussion about music once Niall makes an off-hand remark about trying to get the kids into The Eagles. Before Harry knows it, it’s one in the morning, the flan is gone, and they’ve spent an alarming amount of time passionately discussing their tastes in music. Harry leaves with the promise to re-think his stance on what his favorite solo Stevie Nicks song is and Niall’s loud cackle loud in his ears.

He leaves the next morning, and he absolutely has no time for anything other than trip preparations. He certainly shouldn’t be going out, especially if he’s going to drink.

“Oh, yeah,” Niall answers, a little taken off guard. Harry honestly hadn’t planned on asking Niall if he wanted to share a bottle of Merlot that Gemma can’t drink and Mark isn’t allowed to touch out of solidarity. “Don’t you have to leave early tomorrow morning?”

Harry waves it off but then remembers that he’s on the phone. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so, man.” Niall laughs and tells him to come over if he wants. “I was just making dinner; do you like salmon?”

“Do I ever!” Harry says and Niall’s sweet laugh follows him through the dark as he makes his way to his house. 

They’ve only known each other for a little over a month, but Harry already feels so comfortable making his way to Niall’s house. It doesn’t even occur him to knock on the door until Niall texts him to just let himself in when he gets there.

“I bring wine!” Harry calls out when he’s locked the door behind himself. “It’s god shit too—I think they got this as a gift.” Harry’s looking at the label as he makes his way to the kitchen. There’s an old Cat Stevens song playing softly in the background, and Harry catalogues that for a later conversation. “I know fuck-all about wine, but I love red, so this is good enough for me.”

He looks up, is about to ask Niall for his own opinion on wine, if he even drinks it, but the words die in his mouth when he sees Niall.

Throughout the last couple of weeks, Harry hasn’t been actively trying to squash his initial attraction to Niall. He thinks Niall is cute, because he _is_ , and he’s never denied himself the pleasure of admiring anyone’s aesthetic value. And Niall is his type, is the thing—cute, skinny as all heck, and blonde, if artificially so. But he’s also come to genuinely like Niall, and, more importantly, to want this new friendship they’re developing. Niall is interesting and so caring and he _laughs at Harry’s jokes_. He doesn’t want to ruin anything by awkwardly going back to the flirty banter they’ve so far abandoned, and he finds that this new thing is probably even better than a one-off fuck he could’ve gotten if he’d tried hard enough.

Right now though, looking at Niall in sweats, glasses on his face and his soft hair slightly damp, biting his bottom lip in concentration as he serves plates for two. Right now, Harry kind of wants Niall to change his mind.

He shakes this feeling off, lets it go as quickly as it came and jumps on the counter next to the sink as he’s taken to doing. “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” 

“Hey.” Niall takes a cursory glance up from the food. “Sorry for the…” He gestures at his person and what Harry assumes is his appearance. Ridiculous. He looks perfect. “Saturdays I can’t be bothered, not even for you, dude.”

Harry snorts. “It’s not like it’s a date.” Harry winces; he doesn’t know if Niall is still cool with the flirting. He’s surprised, however, by Niall’s nonchalantly responding, “You’re right. If it was I’d be naked already.”

Harry kicks him playfully and gently in his calf. “Never pegged you for easy, Mr. Horan.”

“Well.” Niall looks up to throw Harry a cheeky wink. “It’s kind of how I became a dad.”

Harry pretends to be scandalized, and Niall, unfailingly, throws his head back in a hearty laugh. “Come on, now. Food’s gonna get cold, ya loon.”

Harry takes it upon himself to serve them the wine. Niall doesn’t have any glassware, so Harry plucks a Best Dad in the World mug for Niall and a sippy cup in the shape of a lion for himself. 

“That’s Robbie’s favorite,” Niall informs him when he sees it. “There’ll be hell to pay if you break it, pal.”

“Really?” Harry frowns. He doesn’t want Niall’s kids to hate him, especially not for ruining a sacred item. Niall rolls his eyes at him, but Harry trades the sippy cup for a mug that reads Kiss Me I’m Irish.

“That’s my favorite.” Niall raises an eyebrow at him. “I’ve killed men for less.”

“With that face, I kind of don’t believe you, bro.”

“I’m Irish, bro.” Niall takes a long pull from the mug Harry’s just filled for him. “We’re a feisty people.”

“All bark…” Harry says, sitting down. “Oh, this looks good, Niall.”

Niall shrugs while he’s chewing and gestures for Harry to dig in. Harry does, and, not shockingly, the salmon is as good as it looks. He tells Niall as much, but Niall just rolls his eyes and tells him that he knows and orders him to shut up and eat. 

They don’t shut up and eat, though, and they pass their meal talking about their week. Niall tells him about how Annie had nearly made an older girl cry during her ballet lesson on Tuesday because she’d made fun of one of the littler girls in the group. He sounds more proud than admonishing when telling the story, and when Harry points it out, Niall just shrugs and says, “If my kids already know to stick up to bullies, I’m doing my job.”

Harry loves hearing about the kids, and he’s tickled pink at the story of Robbie coming back home from school covered in dirt from head to toe because he’d decided he was going to live with the worms. Niall is in the middle of telling him about how confusing it is that Annie, the troublemaker of the two, has turned out to be such a neat freak when Harry realizes something.

“You know,” Harry says, after Niall’s finished. “I don’t think I ever asked you what you do for a living?”

“Oh.” Niall frowns. “I guess not.” He clears his throat, and leans back on his chair. “I’m a social worker; I mostly help people who’ve just come into the country, especially the kids.” He shrugs. “It’s not super exciting, but I like my job.”

“I beg to differ, Niall,” Harry says, leaning forward and spreading his arms on the small table. They’ve finished their meals at this point, and Harry fiddles with the fork, which makes tiny noises against the porcelain. “You help people—how is that not exciting?”

“I dunno.” Niall looks down at his plate and scratches at his knee. “I kind of feel like I have to justify my life to you.”

Harry has absolutely no idea how to respond to that, and from the way Niall has tensed up a little and started to jiggle his leg up and down, he doesn’t think he should either. 

“Hey, Niall?”

Niall looks up, frowning. “Yeah?”

“What do you call two banana skins?”

Niall scoffs and rolls his eyes, but asks, “What, Harry?” anyway.

“A pair of slippers.”

That startles a laugh out of Niall, and suddenly it’s like nothing happened. The rest of the night is easy, and Harry goes home way too late with a promise to be safe and to take a selfie with the bean.

~

“Who are you texting?” Louis asks from where he leaned so close into Harry’s space, he can see the freckle in his left eye. 

“A friend,” Harry mumbles irritably pulling his phone away from his prying eyes. Him, Louis, and Liam are having dinner on a Wednesday night a week later. Louis is nosy, but Liam can be just as bad, and he doesn’t know how to explain this thing he’s got with Niall yet, so. “We’re talking about kid stuff. For Gemma, you know.”

“How is she?” Liam asks, eyes widening in curiosity. “How are you doing?”

“Yeah, have you broken anything yet?” Louis asks, skeptical eyebrow rising.

“You’re hilarious,” Harry says drily. “It’s going well, you know. I feel like I keep having this conversation with you guys.” He runs his index finger along the rim of his wine glass. “It’s starting to feel like nobody thinks I’m capable of helping Gems out. I basically helped raise Lux.”

“Well, to be fair.” Louis starts tearing the breadstick in half, looking at Harry with a wicked glint in his eye. “That was before your whole globetrotting phase started. You haven’t been in one place for longer than two months since Lux was like, three years old.”

Harry frowns at that. He hadn’t realized it’d been that long, to be honest. The years have flown by, but having it laid out on him like that, it makes Harry think twice. “Huh.”

“Well you seem to be doing well,” Liam assures him, nodding once.

“Absolutely incredible,” Louis agrees sarcastically, then pinching Harry’s chin in his fingers. “You look vibrant, young Styles.”

Harry makes a face at him. “Your condescension is much appreciated, Lou.”

“Ugh,” Louis scoffs and pushes him away. “Do you really think I’m not capable of sincerity? I’m earnest, dammit! It’s one of my most defining characteristics.”

“You think so?” Liam shoots Louis his own skeptical look. 

“Shut up and eat your bread, idiot,” Louis snaps, but Liam just laughs heartily and starts munching on his bread stick. 

~

Louis and Liam are in the middle of a very intense game of table hockey when Harry feels his phone vibrating in his pocket. They’re at an arcade that serves alcohol (Louis and Liam’s decision), so Harry is tipsy enough that he slurs his words when he says, “Oop! Gotta get that!” before answering the call before checking the caller ID. “Hullo?” 

“Harry?” comes Niall’s voice from the other end. “Did I catch you at a bad time, dude?”

“What? Of course not!” Harry assures him with a lot more gusto than he’d like if he is going for casual. “But it’s kinda late, don’t you think?”

“Um,” Niall pauses. “It’s 9 p.m., Harry.”

“Oh.” Harry tries to read his wristwatch, ends up slapping his face on accident, then reads that it is, indeed, 9:15 p.m. “I guess we started drinking early.”

“Oh, I guess you’re out with friends. I’ll leave you, then.”

“What? No, what’s up?”

Niall lets out a short laugh. “It’s nothing, dude, it can wait, honestly.”

“No, no, no, no, no, come on…what’s up?” And if Harry was more sober, he’d be embarrassed at how whiny he sounds. 

He thinks he can see Niall roll his eyes. “I was just calling to tell you about something Annie did today; it’s dumb.”

“Well of course it isn’t dumb, don’t be silly.” 

“Listen, I’ll call you tomorrow,” Niall assures him, and Harry frowns at the finality of his tone. 

“Yeah, have a good night.” Harry allows himself a second of listening to Niall breathe before hanging up.

Harry closes his eyes for a moment before walking back to where Louis and Liam have apparently finished their game. He stops abruptly at the suspicious look Louis is giving him. “What?”

“What?” Louis parrots mockingly. “Who called?

“A friend,” Harry says, vaguely. “Can I play now?”

“What friend?” Liam asks innocently enough. 

“Just a—” Harry starts, but he feels his phone vibrate in his hand. When he unlocks it, he opens his message app and sees that Niall has sent him a photo of the kids in salt and pepper costumes and matching grumpy frowns on their faces. Niall’s captioned the picture _Can’t get them to dress in matching costumes anymore ☹ but they were humoring me ahahaha !_ Harry manages to bite down on his grin until a new message bubble appears with _Have a good night bro !_ and a string of emojis. 

“Oh you are so busted,” Louis says, and Harry startles at how Louis’s face is right next to his, reading his texts. 

“Louis!” Liam scolds him, but Louis just scoffs. “Harry’s trying to be sneaky, and you’re mad at _me_?”

“Being private and being sneaky are different, Louis!” Liam argues, but Harry knows arguing won’t do anything, so he just sighs and sits down next to the table hockey table. 

 

“Harry?” Liam’s voice comes from above him. “Are you OK?”

“I’m fine, Liam,” Harry assures him, shooting him a reassuring smile. “Are you two done bickering?”

“For now,” Louis says, and Liam shoots him a glare. “Who was that?”

“He’s a neighbor,” Harry sighs, standing up. “He sent me a picture of his kids, and they’re really cute.”

“You used to put up more of a fight,” Louis frowns, apparently annoyed that he can’t tease Harry more. “You used to be more fun.”

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles as they start making their way to the exit.

“It’s OK, I guess,” Louis sighs, in a rare demonstration of affability toward Harry. “Comes with age, I suppose.”

~

Harry loves Halloween. He always has a party to go to, no matter where he happens to be spending his time. He usually has to improvise a costume, but he thinks his costumes are always clever and funny.

This year is no different. He’s got an invitation to Liam’s Halloween party, and he’s decided to go as Tarzan this year, which, granted, isn’t his most inspired decision, but he’s looking good lately, and he kind of wants to show off.

Harry’s unloading some candy Gemma ordered him to fetch for their own night in giving away candy when his phone chimes with a text. He places the bags of candy on the kitchen counter and then unlocks his phone. Of course, it’s a text from Niall telling him to head over to check out the twins’ costumes.

He doesn’t have to be at the party until nine at the earliest, so he texts back a _be there in a tic_ and heads right back out the door.

There’s the other slightly familiar car parked on the driveway. Harry hesitates before making his way up the driveway and toward the front door. He’s never seen whomever it is that owns the car, but he suspects it’s a family member, and Harry doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries. 

Harry knocks lightly on the door, and he’s surprised by the lack of the usual quick and frantic running steps from the twins. Niall does open the door, though, and the exhausted but genuine grin on his face is so familiar it’s almost home. 

“Hey,” Niall says, a little out of breath. “Nice costume.”

Harry looks down at his usual skinny jeans and loose button-up. “Thanks. I feel like a completely different person.”

Niall lets out a loud guffaw as he closes the door behind them. “The kids are pretty much ready. They can’t wait to get out there.”

“Papi Papi Papi!” Robbie comes sprinting down the hall toward them. He’s wearing a cute penguin costume. “Can we go now, _please_? I’m _ready_!” Robbie looks up and finally spots Harry and his face breaks into a big smile. “Harry! Are you gonna trick-or-treat with us?”

“I think Harry’s busy, pal,” Niall says, booping Robbie lightly on the nose. “He’s here to see your costume!”

“I’m a penguin!” Robbie says excitedly, and then leans down so Harry can take a better look at his beak. “I love penguins! When I grow up I’m gonna live with the penguins in an igloo.”

“That’s really ambitious,” Harry says before Robbie runs back down the hall to his room.

“He’s been watching a lot of _Pingu_ lately,” Niall explains as they start walking down the same path Robbie had just run. “He loves animals. He kept changing his mind, but his grandmother made him choose what to make him, so he decided on the penguin. He’s been practicing his penguin walk all week.”

“He’s cute.” Harry giggles at the image of little Robbie waddling through the house.

“He got that from me,” Niall assures him, to which Harry is about to respond with a _No doubt_ when they turn the corner and Harry sees a woman coming out into the hallway.

“OK so Ana is dressed,” the woman starts before looking up and spotting Harry. “Oh hello.”

“Alma, this is our new temporary neighbor Harry,” Niall starts, nudging Harry and Alma toward each other. “Harry, this is Alma, my ex-wife, and mother to my children.”

“Oh wow,” Alma says, and shoots Niall a furtive glance that Harry doesn’t fail to notice. She extends her hand for him to shake. “It’s nice to meet you; I’ve actually heard a lot about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, um,” Harry shakes her hand and takes a cursory glance at her. She’s wearing scrubs, her hair is in a messy bun, and she’s one of the most beautiful women Harry’s ever seen. “Wait, what?”

“ _Mami_!” comes Annie’s voice from her room. She says something else in Spanish, and Alma responds in like before turning to Harry for a second. “Our little princess needs some assistance; I’ll be right back.”

Alma steps back inside the room, and Harry hangs back until Niall nudges him forward so they both follow after her. Inside, Robbie is waddling mindlessly around the room while Alma helps Annie fix her ponytail. Annie is wearing a leotard with a white spider stitched on her chest, and she’s fiddling with a strip of fabric in her hands when she spots Harry and jumps a little. “Harry!” The smile on her face makes Harry want to squeeze her. 

“Hi, pretty lady,” Harry says. “Now what are you supposed to be?”

“I’m Spidergirl.” She rolls her eyes, and gestures at her get-up. “Duh.”

“Duh.” Harry agrees, nodding. 

“You look wonderful, baby,” Alma tells her daughter and kisses her on the nose before straightening up. She turns around to address Harry and Niall. “Hey, we should get ready so we can get to my mom’s neighborhood before it gets dark out.”

“I can watch the kids while you guys get ready,” Harry offers.

“Oh.” Alma looks a little taken aback by Harry’s offer. She looks at Niall for his opinion, and he nods. “Yeah, sure, thank you, Harry.”

Harry grins up at them as they shuffle out of the room. Soon he’s being tackled gently to the ground by the twins and bombarded with a million and one questions about his own plans for Halloween.

Annie is showing Harry the Spidergirl comics Zayn had given to her when he hears Niall and Alma’s laughter making their way down the hall. When he looks up, Harry can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him when he sees Niall’s costume.

“Why you stuck up, half-witted, scruffy-looking nerf herder,” Harry says, trying to bite down his grin.

“Who’s scruffy looking?” Niall asks, raising a goofy eyebrow. Harry can’t help the laugh that bursts out of his mouth when Niall strikes a pose. 

“Wow,” Harry hears Alma mumble from where she’s standing next to Niall. She herself is dressed in a red dress and a big curly wig. 

“You’re an emoji!” Harry points out, grinning brightly up at her.

“It’s hilarious, right?” Niall smiles brightly and admires her costume again.

“Mami, you look like a movie star,” Robbie says, looking at his mother in awe. 

“ _Ay_ and you look like the cutest penguin in the whole wide world, _mi amor_.” She leans down to kiss him multiple times in his chubby cheeks, and he giggles, delighted. 

“Can we go now?” Annie whines from where she’s standing, plastic pumpkin candy container held tightly in her little fist. “All the good candy’s gonna be gone.”

“Oh, come on then, petal,” Niall says, guiding her out. “Let’s go get us some candy.”

The kids cheer as they follow Niall out of the room. Harry takes a moment to get up, his bad back reacting badly to his time spent on the floor. He’s walking out of the room when he notices that Alma is still standing in the hallway.

“You look very nice,” Harry tells her. 

“Thank you,” Alma says, smiling. Harry desperately wants to ask what exactly she’s heard about him, but she asks her own question first. “Do you have any Halloween plans tonight, Harry?” 

“Yeah, my friend’s throwing a costume party,” Harry says, ruffling his hair a bit. 

“Ah,” her eyebrows rise a little suggestively. “Grown-up Halloween. I forgot what that’s like.”

“I don’t think it’s too different from children Halloween,” Harry says. “A lot of candy, dirty costumes, and temper tantrums.”

“Mami!” Harry hears Robbie yell from the front of the house. “Hurry, hurry!”

When they reach the rest of their little party, Annie and Robbie are bouncing impatiently outside the house. Niall is watching after them, scratching absentmindedly under his linen shirt. Harry allows himself to look for a second before slapping a hand on Niall’s shoulder.

“Think I’m gonna head home, bro,” Harry says, absentmindedly running his hand down Niall’s arm.

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Niall says, shooting him a bright smile. “Thanks for coming, bro. The kids really wanted to show you their costumes.”

Harry shoots him a smile that hopefully conveys how happy he was to see them. Then he catches sight of Alma running a hand down Robbie’s hair. 

“It was nice to meet you,” Harry calls out to her. She looks up at him and smiles. “You too.”

“I’m glad you guys got to meet,” Niall says a bit quietly.

“Yeah, I’m glad too.” Harry smiles down at him. 

“Papi!” Annie yells impatiently. “Come _on_!”

“You guys have fun.” Harry says, punching Niall’s shoulder lightly. Harry feels the urge to say something else, but Niall just pats Harry on the arm once before turning back to his family. 

~

“How you feeling, Harry?” Liam asks, stumbling a little after miscalculating how much he had to lean over to talk to Harry’s ear. Harry goes to hold Liam up, but he ends up stumbling back on the wall instead—he’s well on his way past tipsy and right in the middle of drunk and black out drunk.

“Havin’ the time of m’life, Leeyum,” Harry says, grabbing a hold of Liam’s faux leather jacket. He’s dressed up as Chris Pratt’s character in that movie about aliens, and Harry would be all over him if his beautiful new girlfriend weren’t making her way toward them. “You throw the best parties.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Chloe shoots him a smile and wraps herself around Liam. She’s dressed as Catwoman, which is not that inspired but it’s probably a sexual fantasy for Liam, and Chloe seems like a very selfless person.

“I have to pee,” Harry announces, before tripping on his way to turn around and start heading down the hall.

The original plan had been to get a little tipsy, enough to maybe let loose on the dance floor without feeling self conscious about his love handles. Unfortunately, the cocktails he’s been downing all night had been more alcohol than sugar, so now he’s leaning against the wall and struggling to get his cock out of his loincloth. 

Liam is hosting this party at his penthouse, which is surprisingly spacious. It’s a little cold, though, and his nipples have been hard all night, which had been a little awkward when he’d made out with that cute Prince Charming earlier. He tries to warm them up a little—his night’s not even near over yet. 

After he flushes and tucks himself back in, he goes to zip himself back up but starts giggling when he realizes he doesn’t have a zipper. What he notices, though, is that his phone is still tucked into his costume, which he’s glad for, because he honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it’d turned out that he’d dropped it somewhere. He unlocks it and brings his phone up to his face. He scrolls through his notifications, ignoring a lot of them until he finally sees one from Niall. Harry squints at his phone and sees that it’s a picture message, so he opens it and struggles to remember his password.

His message app takes forever to open, but finally the message opens and he sees that Niall’s sent him a photo of the twins making snow angels out of candy.

Harry takes a glance around the bathroom to see if there’s anything interesting to send Niall. He takes a look at the decorative soaps shaped like starfish when he gets distracted by his own reflection.

He ends up sending Niall a mirror selfie, almost drops his phone on the toilet immediately afterwards, and ends up forgetting his phone in the medicine cabinet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks 4 reading :* if u wanna hmu i'm [on tumblr](http://www.mpregfan1994.tumblr.com) (sorry) luv u


	3. everywhere you are is a place i wanna go

When Harry wakes up at noon the day after Liam’s Halloween party, he’s still drunk and nearly falling off the sinfully comfortable couch. When he wakes up again four hours later, his head hurts so much he thinks he’s going to die, but someone’s laid out a glass of water and a bottle of Advil on the coffee table, along with a note that tells him to help himself to whatever is in the kitchen. 

He grabs a banana and eats it as he looks through the house for his cell phone. When he finds it in the bathroom, he’s unsurprised that it’s totally dead. He borrows a charger from the bedroom and takes a shower while he lets it charge. He stashed a change of clothes in Liam’s closet last night, so he looks semi-presentable after he’s changed into jeans and a t-shirt.

He spares his phone a scroll as he makes his way down the elevator. He’s got a few texts from Gemma telling him that they’ll be at the doctor and running a few errands today, a missed call from his mom, a text from his dad saying hi, as well as a few other miscellaneous texts from people asking him what’s up or saying something along the lines of “nice meeting you last night ;)”. When he finally scrolls to his last notification, though, he sees that Niall sent him a message saying _Haha George of t jungle nice bro !_ Harry frowns at himself, confused.

The elevator dings, and when he looks up he’s at the underground garage. Harry unlocks his phone as he walks toward his car and clicks through to his Niall thread. His last message sent was a photo. Of himself. In his Tarzan costume. “Oh…Oh no…Oh n—”

Harry is thankful that his dick isn’t out, but he still can’t help the flush that builds up his neck. He’s got his hand dangerously close to his crotch, and his tongue is out in a way that could be thought of as either goofy or completely deranged. He’s so embarrassed.

 _It was actually Tarzan_ Harry sends, unlocking his car door. _Guess I had one too many._

Harry waits to buckle in until his phone pings with another notification. It never comes, so he pulls out of the garage eventually, fingers tapping nervously on the wheel. He doesn’t check his phone throughout his ride, because he’s actually really responsible, but he comes pretty close.

He doesn’t embarrass easily, is the thing, so this strange weight in his chest is really shocking. In any other circumstances, he’d shrug this faux pas and let it go, easy as anything. But for some reason, his stomach drops lower and lower as every minute passes without his phone chiming with a text notification.

When Harry gets back to the house, he still hasn’t gotten a response. He’s going through his settings to see if he’s accidentally fucked up his data plan or something when he steps through into the living room and is immediately assaulted by a pair of little arms that attach themselves to his jeans.

“Did I walk into the wrong house?” Harry doesn’t get too far with the two human-shaped anchors on his legs yelling at him about candy and costumes and fun.

“Oh, you’re home,” comes Gemma’s voice from her place on the couch. Harry dumps his bag and runs his hands through the twins’ hair in greeting. “I thought you were gonna spend the day in the city.”

“OK, kids. Give Harry some space.” Alma waves the kids over to her from her place next to Gemma. The kids reluctantly let go and run back to their mom, Annie crawling on top of her and Robbie setting up at her feet. 

“Um.” Harry stands awkwardly on the threshold between the foyer and the living room and shrugs once. “Change of plans.”

“Well, lucky for you,” Gemma grins up at him from her usual perch on the couch. “You’re just in time for chili!”

“I like chili,” Robbie says, not looking up from where he’s playing with some rubbery-looking farm animals. “But when it is hot it hurts my mouth!”

“That’s why you gotta eat it slow,” Alma informs with an amused grin, but Robbie is already moving on and is looking up at Harry with his big hazel eyes. “Do you wanna play farm with me?” he asks, and Harry doesn’t hesitate before he walks to his side of the living room and sits down next to him on the floor.

“So, how do we play?” Harry asks, and he listens intently as Robbie starts clumsily explaining the rules of his made up farm game.

It’s about twenty minutes later when Annie’s commandeered a spot on Harry’s lap, and Harry hears the front door open. 

“We’re home!” Mark calls out, followed by Niall’s enthusiastic “Oi, oi, oi!”

“Good!” Gemma calls out. “I’m starving!”

“Papi, I’m _hungry_!” Robbie whines and dramatically throws himself on the floor. 

“Patience, my darling!” Niall calls out, and soon enough he’s popping his head out from the kitchen. “This is no regular chili. This is Horan Chili, the most delicious chili made by a white guy this side of the Mississippi.”

“We’re not even close to the Mississippi,” Harry hears Mark grumble, and Niall rolls his eyes.

“Details, details.” Niall aims his smile at Harry before propping himself against the wall. “Hey there. How was your party?”

“Um.” Harry fiddles with the glass of water on his hand. “It was fun. Got a little crazy, but I didn’t die.”

“Harry, you can’t die!” Robbie says, struggling to stand up. “Are you gonna die?” Robbie asks, shuffling toward Harry to hold his face in his chubby little hands.

“Grown ups can’t die,” Annie informs him, hitching herself higher on Harry’s lap. “They’re not allowed to die until we’re grown ups too.”

“That’s right,” Harry agrees, nodding once, and Robbie lets out a sigh of relief before he sits back down next to Harry. He hears Niall chuckle from his spot outside of the kitchen, and when Harry looks up, Niall gives him a short nod.

“All right, food’ll be done in a bit,” Niall laughs before heading back into the kitchen.

“Mami, I’m hungry,” Annie sighs, and when she moves her head back, her hair finds its way in Harry’s mouth. 

“We’ve got some fruit, if the kids want a snack,” Gemma offers, and Alma hums in assent before starting to get up.

“Oh, I’ll get it,” Harry tells her, gently picking Annie up to place her on the floor. 

“Oh, you don’t have to,” Alma begins to protest, but Harry waves her off. “I’m starting to get hungry too.”

“Harry, can I have a banana?” Robbie asks, and Annie bounces a little next to him and asks for an apple for herself.

“Coming right up!” Harry says, and he ruffles Annie’s hair once before heading toward the kitchen.

“If you’re here to request a vegan option,” Mark starts, shooting Harry a derisive look over his glasses. “I don’t care if you’re family; I’ll throw you out the window.”

“This house is a one-story,” Harry informs him, grabbing a cutting board from the cupboard. 

“We have a roof,” Mark mumbles, shuffling around the kitchen.

“Hey, give him a break,” Niall says lightly, placing the ground beef he’d been seasoning in a pot. “Harry, I can make you a salad if you’d like.”

“Don’t be silly, Niall,” Harry says, cutting up a red delicious into wedges. “I do eat red meat sometimes.”

“But you take great pleasure in making our lives more difficult,” Mark adds, opening the fridge door and grabbing a beer. “It’s like your specialty.” 

“I have a lot to offer,” Harry retorts haughtily, placing the apple wedges in a bowl. 

“I’d like a list, if you have it,” Mark says, before taking a long pull of his beer. Harry ignores him and starts cutting a banana into small pieces. “If you’re done being mean to me, could you please take this to the twins?” Harry hands him the bowl of fruit, and Mark rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything snarky and just takes it and walks out of the kitchen.

“Why is Mark so mean to you?” Niall asks, taking a small pause from chopping vegetables to shoot Harry a questioning look. Harry almost laughs Niall’s concern off, but there’s a little concerned line forming in the middle of his eyebrows.

“Oh he’s just messing around,” Harry assures him. He jumps on the counter and watches as Niall sets up his space in the kitchen. “He’s actually really thoughtful. It’s kind of fun anyway; he’s the big brother I never had, you know?” 

“My big brother’s kind of a dick, so…” Niall shoots him a quick smile. “Yeah, sure.”

Harry perks up a bit at the mention of Niall’s brother; in the weeks that they’ve hung out, Niall hasn’t been very forthcoming with information on his nuclear family. 

“How much older than you is your brother?” Harry asks, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, well.” Niall scrunches up his face a little in thought. “Seven years.”

Niall doesn’t offer anything else, so Harry opens his mouth to goad more information out of him when Alma walks into the kitchen. “Hi, fellas,” Alma says, 

“Hey,” Harry shoots her an awkward wave, and she shoots him a beautiful smile.

“Do you need any help, baby?” Alma asks Niall, running a hand down his back. Niall signals for her to start chopping some onions, and Harry is quietly embarrassed about not offering to help as he should have.

“Um, is there anything I can do?” Harry asks, sheepishly jumping off the counter. 

“Oh, we’re almost done,” Niall assures him, shooting him a grin over his shoulder. “You can go chill with your sister if you’d like.”

“Oh, don’t go,” Alma pleads, pouting cutely. “How was your Halloween party? I’m assuming inappropriate? I’m not embarrassed to admit I’d like to live vicariously through you for a few minutes, if you’d oblige me.”

“Oh.” Harry feels his cheeks heat up. He clears his throat and leans back against the counter. “Well you know, your usual debauchery. Nothing too not safe for work, though; the craziest thing I did was let people take body shots—” He stops himself, suddenly a little unsure about how much he should be sharing. “You know, just party…shenanigans.”

Alma doesn’t seem to notice his sudden mortification when she lifts herself up onto the counter and sighs wistfully. “Ah, body shots. Good times, good times.” She turns her attention to Niall, who is wiping his hands and looking amusedly at Harry and Alma. “Do you remember that time, after that one World Cup match we watched at that bar?”

“Costa Rica versus England?” Niall’s eyes shine with recognition. “I woke up with a bunch of bite marks around my belly button!”

Harry's eyes widen.

Alma’s eyes look far away with nostalgia. “Yeah, that was a good night.” She snaps out of it and focuses her attention back to Harry, giving him a warm smile. “I’m guessing Niall hasn’t been very forthcoming with tales of our misadventures.”

This takes Harry a little off guard. He chances a look at Niall who rolls his eyes but has got a faint flush going up his neck. “We’ve only just met. And besides, it’s not really any of my business.”

“I guess not,” Alma concedes, and the way she nods makes her thick hair move in a mesmerizing way. “But they’re funny stories! We had some fun pre-babies. Even pre-divorce!”

“Oh so we don’t have fun anymore?” Niall teases, placing a lid on the pot heating up on the stove. 

“Well I’m doing my residency,” Alma offers. “You actually have time to have a social life; you just choose not to have one.”

Niall’s nose scrunches up, a little put off. “That’s unfair. I have a social life.”

“OK, let me clarify,” Alma places a hand on Niall’s shoulder and another one on her hip. “What I really mean is love life.”

“You don’t have a love life either!” Niall points out, laughter in his eyes, but sounding a little bit offended. 

“I spend 60% of my time at the hospital!” Alma counters. “And I get the kids on the weekends; I would’ve thought you would’ve taken advantage, Niall.”

Niall chances a glance at Harry, who is stuck awkwardly watching this exchange happen. “This seems like an inappropriate conversation to be having right now, Al.”

“No, because I need reinforcements.” She turns to Harry. “Could you please help me convince him to go out with this guy I know? I’ve been annoying him about this for months, but he's so stubborn."

“Harry doesn’t care about this stuff.” Niall turns to Harry to shoot him an apologetic shrug. “I’m sorry you’re getting roped into this. We’ve been having this conversation for what feels like a lifetime.”

“Because you won’t say ‘yes’ to me!” Alma says, swinging her legs on the counter. “When has telling me ‘no’ worked for you, ever, Niall?”

“Never, you crazy,” Niall mumbles, wiping at the counter with a tea towel.

“OK, so,” Alma turns to Harry and raises her eyebrows conspirationally. “Will you help me out here, Harry? This is for Niall’s own good.”

“I’m not sure if I should be getting involved,” Harry mumbles, not taking his eyes off Niall’s tense back. “But it feels like a shame to be depriving the world’s population of eligible men from such a cute butt.”

Alma slaps her knee and extends her arm in a “that’s what I’m trying to say” gesture. “Don’t be selfish, Niall!”

“I knew you two shouldn’t have met,” Niall shoots a faux threatening look at Harry and Niall. “Ganging up on me, you two are.” 

“Whatever,” Alma jumps off the counter. “Think it over again. Harry, maybe you can talk him into it.” She pats Harry’s shoulder in a show of support or something, then heads out the kitchen.

“Can I ask for your opinion though?” Niall asks. He starts biting at his fingernail, and Harry doesn’t think twice before nodding.

Niall straightens up and takes a deep breath. “Do you think I should let my ex-wife set me up? Is that weird?”

Harry worries at his lip and takes a second to think it over. Niall genuinely looks like he’s agonizing over this decision, despite the fact that it’s just one date as far as Harry can tell. Harry can’t deny the pang on his chest that is caused by the troubling thought of why not me? that overtakes him for a second.

“I don’t think you should do it if you really don’t want to,” Harry finally tells him. Niall starts nodding, but Harry places a hand on Niall’s shoulder. “But, you know, what is weird anyway, right?"

“Yeah,” Niall sighs before starting to bite at his right ring finger, a habit Harry has noticed Niall does when he’s nervous. 

“You stop that,” Harry says, pulling Niall’s hand away from his mouth. He takes a moment to hold Niall’s hand in his before dropping it and running his hands through his own hair. “Are you all right?”

“No,” Niall says quickly, then scoffs and rolls his eyes at himself. “Yes, sorry. I’m just.” He takes a deep breath, and Harry doesn’t know what comes over him when he pulls at Niall’s earlobe. It makes Niall laugh, though, so Harry can’t help the slow smile that starts forming on his lips. “This situation...it's not something that I thought I’d ever have to experience, you know?”

“I don’t know,” Harry answers truthfully, and Niall lets out a quiet laugh. “But, at the risk of sounding pretty corny, I think a lot of good can come out of the unexpected."

“I guess you’re right,” Niall says, without any trace of irony or contempt, and smiles brightly at him, and when he runs his hand through his hair, it sticks up and makes him look like a troll doll.

A cute troll doll.

~

The chili is delicious, but Harry can’t say he’s surprised, since he does very vividly remember their dinner at his place a few weeks ago. The children eat heartily, if messily, and a lot of their parents' time throughout dinner is spent trying to get them to stay on their seats and telling them to get their faces closer to the bowl, please. By around nine o’clock everyone is full and happy, and the twins are valiantly trying to keep their little heads up. 

“So our next potluck will be here,” Gemma tells Alma as she’s standing up, Robbie nearly asleep in her arms. “Honestly, this thing,” Gemma points to her swollen belly, “I think it’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

“I’m not confirming or denying that,” Alma says, but the way she winks at Gemma and goes on to press a kiss on Robbie’s cheek assures Harry that she’s only teasing.

“We’ll be seeing ya, then,” Niall says brightly, if somewhat quietly as Annie is fast asleep in his arms. “And I know you won’t, but call if you need anything.”

Mark opens his mouth to say something smart, so Harry quickly jumps in, “I’ll walk you guys out.”

“If Mark won’t call, you will, right?” Niall asks, hitching Annie higher up in his hips.

“Of course, Niall,” Harry assures him, placing a hand on Niall’s shoulder. He opens the door with his other hand, and he’s somewhat surprised by the cool breeze that blows through. “I might just call you later tonight, just to say hey.”

“A text will be fine,” Niall rolls his eyes, but his smile stays firmly on.

“So!” comes Alma’s voice from where she’s walked out into the night. “Tonight was nice, wasn’t it?”

“It was super nice,” Harry nods, placing his hands behind his back. “Looking forward to the next time.”

“So are we,” Alma smiles, and there’s something in her eyes that makes Harry nervous, like it’s something she knows that Harry doesn’t. “So we’ll see you?”

“Sure,” Harry says, and Alma leans in to press a kiss on his cheek. “See you.”

“See ya!” Niall smiles at him, and with a wave, they’re on their way.

An hour later, as Harry’s having some leftovers in the kitchen, his phone dings with a notification, and when he unlocks it he finds a message from Niall. _Guess I’m going on a date this week_ , it reads, and Harry can’t help the frown that forms on his face. _Help ?_

“Well,” Harry says quietly, and he doesn’t want to think about the involuntary frown that’s forming on his face.

 _What do you need?_ he sends, and he bites down a smile when Niall sends the emoji of the monkey covering its eyes.

~

“You know when you asked me to come over today, I expected a little more fussing?”

Niall looks up at him over his glasses from his place on the floor where he’s going through something on his laptop. His cuticle is in his mouth, as per, so when he speaks his words come out a bit muffled. “Fussing?”

“You know.” Harry moves around so he’s on his stomach, lying perpendicularly on Niall’s king sized bed. The white sheets get mussed up a bit, but Harry promises himself he’ll fix it later. “Helping you with pre-date preparations? Maybe a fun outfit-picking montage set to an 80s pop song.”

“I only asked you to babysit the twins,” Niall reminds him, folding his laptop closed but not enough to snap it shut. “You’re the one that came by a good two hours early.”

Harry shrugs and starts scrolling through his Instagram feed. Mark’s posted a new picture of Gemma—she’s looking bigger and more exhausted each week. “I didn’t want to be late.”

“Besides,” Niall says and gets up from his spot. He stretches his arms above his head and Harry bites his lip as he catches a glance at a bit of Niall’s tummy. He immediately winces as Niall’s knee makes a really horrible cracking sound as he starts stretching his leg. “It’s not like I haven’t been on a date before in my life.”

“How long have you been divorced, Niall?” Harry gets up to follow after Niall, who has started retreating into the living room. 

“Um, three years?” Niall makes his way toward the dining table where the kids are doing their homework. He ruffles the twins’ hair as he takes his place on the table. “What does that have to do with anything?”

The twins talk amongst themselves about their assignment and Harry can’t help but smile at them before he addresses Niall. “Well, you might be a little rusty,” Harry suggests, not unkindly. That doesn’t stop Niall from throwing him an annoyed look. Harry just shrugs.

“I’ve been on dates.” There’s a note of defensiveness in Niall’s voice. “I’m not celibate for fu—fudge’s sake!” Harry’s mouth quirks up in an amused smile. “I get around!”

“As much as I enjoy talking about this in front of your kids—” 

“Papi, we’re done!” Annie announces, and quickly gets up from her spot on the table. Robbie writes a few things on his paper and then calmly closes his notebook. “Can we watch Steven?”

“Not too loud, petal,” Niall reminds them. “Just for 30 minutes, guys!” he calls as they make their way to the television. When the kids are engrossed on the TV, Niall turns back to Harry. “Where were we?”

“You’re a harlot, apparently.” Harry shoots Niall a smirk and leans forward on the table and starts fiddling with the zipper on Robbie’s monkey backpack. Niall rolls his eyes and says, “You’re ridiculous.”

“Are you nervous at all?” Harry asks, and Niall shrugs. “I don’t know,” Niall says honestly. “I don’t know this guy, so I guess a part of me is afraid that he’s like, a murderer or, worse, a freegan.” Harry can’t help the obnoxious laugh that comes out of him. “But there aren’t any stakes, you know? If I don’t like him, there’s no real loss.”

“Don’t you think you’d want that edge, though?” Harry asks, shuffling some of the stuff on the table. “To keep you on your toes?”

Niall rolls his eyes. “I’m not exactly looking for something serious; I’m only going on this date to get Al off my back.”

“Well, why not?”

“Why not what?”

“Why aren’t you looking for something serious?”

“I don’t know.” Niall shrugs and starts biting on his cuticle, which makes Harry feel bad for clearly stressing him out. “Why do I have to?”

“I don’t know.” Harry places his chin on his hands. “Do you want to?”

Niall shrugs. “I don’t know.”

They look at each other, the sounds of a cartoon’s theme song that Harry doesn’t recognize sounding faintly in the background. Harry lets it go. They don’t need to talk about this now.

~

Harry offers to cook dinner while Niall bathes the kids. It’s probably an odd twist to their usual Thursday night routine, but the kids don’t seem to mind as they munch happily on their green beans.

Even though Niall insists on Harry leaving the mess in the kitchen for him to clean later, Harry still puts the leftovers away and starts doing the dishes. He can’t find the dish soap, though, so he starts making his way toward the bedrooms to ask. He’s about to call out for Niall when he hears voices as he passes the kids’ bedroom.

“One more and then lights out, yeah?” Niall says, and the kids respond with a chorus of already drowsy yay’s. “So what’ll it be?”

“Can you play the Kermit song, papi?” Robbie asks quietly. Annie’s voice follows with a faint “please.”

“Of course, lovely.” The sounds of a strumming guitar start drifting through the open bedroom door, and Harry can’t help it when he starts walking toward the door. 

Harry’s leaning against the doorframe as Niall starts quietly singing. _“Why are there so many songs about rainbows…”_ Harry looks on as the twins are slowly lulled to sleep by the quiet and raspy sound of Niall’s voice. Niall is in the middle of the second verse when he stops singing and gets up to put the guitar away somewhere in the room. 

Harry doesn’t let himself watch the rest of their nightly ritual, pushes himself back from the doorway and leans against the hallway wall and starts scrolling through his e-mails. He only looks up when he hears a soft snick from the door closing, and Niall mumbles quietly, “There you are.”

“Here I am.” Harry puts his phone in his pocket as he smiles at Niall, who shoots him a small smile back. “Let’s get you ready.”

Harry follows Niall into his bedroom and immediately dumps himself on the bed when Niall walks toward his closet. Niall only takes a moment to grab some clothes from his closet and walking back to the bathroom. “Aren’t you gonna ask for my fashion advice?” Harry calls out as Niall closes the bathroom door.

“Fashion advice from you?” Niall lets out a theatrical scoff. “You’ve got rips on your jeans!”

The faucet starts running the bathroom, and Harry flips onto his back and looks down at his jeans. He does have rips on his knees, but, like. “These rips are stylish.”

There’s a silence as the faucet keeps running, and Harry takes this moment to flop around on the bed to get closer to the bedside table. Pictures in frames litter the entire house—the entire living room wall is covered in photos of what Harry suspects is Niall’s family and especially of the twins at different stages of their lives. The kids occupy the center of attention here too: a large photo of them cheesing at the camera—Annie in bright yellow dress and Robbie in a checkered shirt with a bowtie, both of them with grass on their hair and dirt on their faces. Next to it is a photo of what Harry assumes is his mother as a young woman from the resemblance in their noses and her 80s attire. On the other side is a photo of a little Niall and what Harry’s come to know as Niall’s brother playing plastic instruments in a living room. Behind all these photos, though, there’s one that he can’t quite see, so he picks it up from the table and holds it up to his face.

It’s Niall and Alma’s wedding photo. They’re standing in front of a courthouse, smiling widely at each other and caught in an embrace. Niall is wearing a white button up and a blue tie, and he looks so young and rosy-cheeked, while Alma is wearing a white sundress and an extremely pregnant belly. They look so happy, and it strikes Harry that the way that they look at each other now is only slightly less smitten than how they look in this photo.

"We're going to a movie, so I didn't want to dress up too much." The sound of the door opening pulls Harry from his thoughts, and when he looks up at the direction of the bathroom, Niall is standing there pulling his white Henley over his stomach. “How do I look?”

“Um.” When Niall looks up from his shirt to look at Harry, Harry doesn’t know what to do with the frame on his hands. “I don’t know what to say.”

Niall rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t look irritated when he starts walking toward the bed and sits next to Harry. “She was six months pregnant when we got married.” Harry turns to look at Niall, who is looking at the photo in his hands. “I don’t know if it counts as a shotgun wedding since both our families knew about the baby since we found out, but we didn’t have a big ceremony or anything.”

“Were your families mad?” Harry asks and immediately bites his bottom lip.

“Well.” Niall places his elbow on Harry’s shoulder and starts running his forefinger through his bottom lip. “Not after we got married. Besides, we weren’t in high school or anything; we’d just finished our undergrad too.”

Harry has so many questions, and it’s getting harder and harder to keep them in, but the only thing he says is, “OK, lemme have a look.” Niall laughs and gets up and steps in front of Harry on the bed. He spins once, and then strikes an exaggerated pose, even lifting his left eyebrow comically high. Harry can’t help the obnoxious laugh that falls out of his mouth.

“What a stud!” Harry claps a few times before letting out a wolf whistle. Niall lets out a loud cackle, and Harry can’t help but reach out to place his hands on Niall’s hips. “I’m serious,” Harry mumbles and looks up at Niall, who has stopped laughing but has still got the cute scrunch on his nose. Harry clears his throat before speaking again. “You clean up nice, Horan.”

“Thank you, Styles.” Niall smiles down at him, and Harry smiles back, and it’s a very nice moment up until Niall’s phone starts ringing shrilly on his dresser.

“You should get that,” Harry says, and pinches Niall’s nipple before he pushes him away. “Might be your gentleman caller.”

"You're such a dick," Niall mumbles, but his blush is crawling up his neck as he moves through the room to find his phone.

When Niall leaves fifteen minutes later, Harry allows himself a few moments to cuddle on the bed before moving to the couch.

~

_So._

_So ?_

_We didn’t get to talk about your date when you got home last night_

_So we didn’t :p_

_Excuse me, Niall._

_OK OK whataya wanna know ?_

_How big was it?_

_Harry !!_

_I’m joking!  
But was he hot?_

_God, you freak !_

_So…?_

_OK, he was hot._

_Oh, really?_

_4/5 hot peppers_

_That’s nearly dangerous, Niall._

_i like spicy food ;p_

~

“Are you listening to me?” Harry winces at the shrillness of the voice coming from the other end of the phone. “Fuck you—what’s more important than me, asshole?!”

“Um.” Harry stretches his back from where he’s lying on the damp grass on Gemma’s backyard. It’s cold out, and the monthly neighborhood cookout had ben changed to an indoor potluck. It wasn’t supposed to be held in Gemma’s house, but Gemma can’t get up anymore, so they’d insisted. It’s cold out, and Harry would prefer to be inside with the rest of the party, but the twins had been running around the house, and Harry offered to look after them as they tired themselves out. They’re so cute in their puffy coats, and Harry’s got some pictures of them saved on his phone to show Niall later. 

“Sorry, Lou,” Harry says, snapping back into the conversation. “What were you saying?”

“Well now I don’t wanna tell you.” The haughty note on Louis’s voice is pretty typical, but Harry knows how to deal with him.

“Well, that’s all right.” Harry knows that his good nature will frustrate Louis enough that he’ll tell him eventually. The twins are pretty entertaining for now. “How’ve you been, Lewis?”

“Horribly, now listen up.” Harry smiles at Louis’s lack of commitment. “The company’s working for this other company who’s putting up this charity concert thing, and I have some extra tickets or whatever.”

“And you want to give some to me? How generous.”

“Fuck you and shut up. I need a headcount of how many people you’re planning on bringing with you. Not a whole fucking herd, though. You’re too nice you end up inviting your fucking milkman.”

“Milkmen aren’t a thing anymore, Louis.”

“So what do they have in the suburbs?”

“I dunno, lawns. Picket fences. Family.”

“Gross. Anyway, I e-mailed you the information—I expect a response within 24 hours.”

“All right. Thank you, Louis.”

“You’re welcome.” There’s a throat clearing at the other end and silence before Louis speaks up again. The kids are starting to wind down, and instead of running around the yard, they’re flitting through Gemma’s garden and speaking in low voices among each other. “What are you doing right now anyway?”

“I’m in the backyard,” Harry says, running a hand through the grass. “Watching the kids.”

“Whose kids? Did you pick up some stranger children off the street?”

“Shut up.” Harry rolls his eyes, and at the other end Louis is about to go on some sort of teasing spree when the glass door slides open and Harry looks up to see Niall stepping outside. He isn’t wearing a coat, and he runs his hands down his arms as he calls out for the kids to come back inside. “Hey, I gotta go; I’ll call you later, OK?”

“Less than 24 hours,” Louis threatens. “Or I give the tickets to your worst enemy.”

Harry gets up, stretches his stiff limbs and tries to shuffle in place to warm up a little. “I don’t have enemies.”

“Well, someone that wasn’t nice to you once, I don’t fucking—24 hours, Harry!” Louis hangs up on him before Harry can defend himself further, so Harry just shrugs and turns to start walking back inside. 

“You’re crazy, you know,” Niall informs Harry as soon as he closes the sliding door behind him. 

“Well, what’s your reasoning behind that, Niall?” Harry shoots his best pout at Niall.

“Only a crazy person would put up with my kids in this weather.” Niall bumps his shoulder against Harry’s, smiling up at him. “They really like you.”

“You got really lucky.” Harry starts unbuttoning his coat—it’s actually quite toasty inside. He hears Niall mumble a quiet, “Yeah, I know” before he takes Harry’s coat and walks toward the foyer. 

Harry bunches the sleeves of his sweater over his hands and watches Niall walk away before calling out after him. “Hey, hold on.” He walks after him, nearly tripping on his own feet. “I have to ask you something.”  
~

“I love my daughter.”

“Babes.”

“I love my baby.”

“Fati—”

“I love my daughter more than anything in this world.”

Zayn hooks his arm around Fatima’s neck and pulls her toward him to kiss the top of her head. “Babes.”

When Fatima speaks, her words are muffled against Zayn’s sweater. “I love my daughter, and that’s why I need to get away from her.”

Next to Harry, Niall lets out a loud cackle at Zayn and Fatima’s exchange. Harry frowns down at him as Zayn continues to whisper soothing words into Fatima’s ear. “What’s up, giggly?”

“It’s just.” Niall shifts on where he’s leaning against the railing behind them. “It’s funny being on the other side, I guess.” They exchange a smile before Harry quickly averts his gaze to smile down at his drink. “I remember the first time I went out without the twins. It was like the end of the world.”

“That doesn’t make me a bad mother, right?” Fatima asks, pulling away from Zayn, who looks at her like he couldn’t be more charmed. 

“We haven’t gone out in almost a year, babe,” Zayn says, pulling her back in to place a series of kisses on her temple. 

“It’s like déjà vu,” Niall mumbles, and Harry lets out a laugh before taking a sip of his drink.

“There you are,” comes a voice from Harry’s left, and when he turns he finds Liam walking toward him, drink in hand and a bright smile on his face. “I asked Louis where you were, but he ignored me and almost dropped a bowl of beer nuts on me.”

“You found me,” Harry says and lets Liam envelop him in a hug. “Liam, these are my neighbors, Niall, Zayn, and Fatima.”

“Hey,” Liam smiles and shakes Niall’s hand before doing the same with Zayn and Fatima. “I'm Liam. It’s nice to meet you all.”

“Hello,” Niall smiles brightly. “No offense, but I half expected Harry’s friends to be jerks. You and Louis seem cool.”

“Excuse me, Niall,” Harry huffs while Liam simply lets out a pleased laugh. “Excuse me, Liam.” When Harry’s pout only grows, the rest of them just laugh, but Fatima soothes his bruise ego somewhat by rubbing soothingly at his back.

“Well, we met Harry at college,” Liam smiles. “That was before he started spending five hundred dollars on his shirts.”

“That is not something I do.” It takes everything Harry has not to stomp his foot on the ground. 

“Oh, isn’t it?” Niall asks, and before Harry can push him away, Niall pulls at his collar and looks down the back of his shirt. “This is Marc Jacobs!”

“It was on sale!” Harry whines, and Liam laughs brightly but brings him in for a warm hug. “Why do you like to make me look bad in front of my friends, Liam?”

“Oh, Harry,” Liam mumbles against Harry’s ear. “You do that all by yourself, buddy.”

~

“Oh, those guys were good,” Fatima sighs, settling more comfortably against Zayn’s chest from where he’s got his skinny body wrapped around her. The first band of the night has just finished their set, and the house lights turn on as the stage is being set up for the next performer.

“They were all right,” Zayn mumbles against her temple. “Haven’t listened to anything but classical music in the last six months, so.”

“You agreed that was good for Sali!” Fatima pinches Zayn’s side, which makes him squirm a bit but his hold on her doesn’t loosen. 

“Oh, you guys have a baby?” Liam asks, turning an interested ear to them. 

“Hey,” Harry taps at Niall’s right wrist where his arms are hanging off the rail of the mezzanine their group is set up. When Niall turns to face him, the light that shines above them reflects against his hair, giving him a halo. “You wanna grab a drink while we wait for the next band?” 

“Could use a beer,” Niall acquiesces, straightening up. “Those guys were good, weren’t they? Bit of a White Stripes vibe.”

“Because the drummer was a girl?” Harry suggests, teasing. In response, Niall just knocks his shoulder against Harry’s. 

Before either of them can say anything else, Harry hears someone call his name. When Harry turns his head in the direction of the voice, he sees Louis standing in front of the bar. “Louis! I haven’t seen you all night.”

“You know this is a work thing for me, right?” Louis says, talking to Harry like he’s an idiot, which is quite unfair. “I’ve been doing my job all night.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Harry says, but steps forward to cuff his neck, much to his chagrin. “Louis, this is Niall, my neighbor.”

“It’s nice to be properly introduced,” Louis says, extending a hand toward Niall. 

“Sure, bro,” Niall takes the proferred hand and shakes it heartily. “Thanks for the invite, by the way. It’s a great event.”

“Thank you, Niall,” Louis says pleasantly, and Harry frowns at the very true fact that Louis is actually nice to everyone but him. “You want a drink?”

With Louis’s help, they get their drinks pretty quickly, despite the crowd around the bar. Soon enough they’re making their way back to where they had left the others, and much to Harry’s surprised, Fatima, Liam, and Zayn are still in an animated conversation.

“Hey, Lou!” Liam says brightly when he spots them approach. “Have you met Zayn and Fatima yet? They’re Harry’s neighbors, like Niall. Look at Zayn’s ink!”

That sets them off on a heated conversation about tattoos, with the three of them holding out their forearms to show off to each other. Niall and Fatima orbit toward each other and start talking about the band they had just seen. Harry just hangs back for a bit, just looking on as his newest friends mingle with his oldest friends. They fit, and they don’t pause their conversation until the house lights start dimming and the MC announces the next band.

~

“Everyone seems to be getting along really well,” Harry observes idly before taking a sip of iced tea. They’ve moved on to an In ‘n’ Out after Louis had proclaimed that if he didn’t get any food in him immediately he would stab Harry specifically, and they’ve commandeered a booth in the corner, their table littered with food. Currently, Liam is telling the story of that time him and Louis went to Vegas for Liam’s 25th birthday and got so drunk that they woke up in a fountain. Harry has heard this story before, so he doesn’t contribute anything to the conversation.

“Your friends are great,” Niall responds, surprising Harry. “And thanks for tonight. We all had a lot of fun.”

“What about you specifically?” Harry teases.

“ _I_ had a lot of fun,” Niall laughs, flicking a fry at Harry. “I’m not a hermit, but I hadn’t gone out just for myself in a while, and I…I needed it, so thanks.”

“Don’t thank me,” Harry shoots Niall a smile, which he returns, making Harry’s heart embarrassingly skip a beat. “I like spending time with you anyway.”

“I like spending time with you,” Harry says honestly, and he doesn’t think he’s imagining the color that starts forming on Niall’s cheeks as he laughs heartily. 

Later, when they’re making their way to their cars, Louis breaks away from the conversation he’s having with Zayn and catches up to Harry.

“So Freddie and Zayn’s kid are having a play date next week,” Louis informs him in a way that lets Harry know that this conversation is going somewhere unpleasant.

“Freddie is five years older than Saliha,” Harry says, playing along. “Which makes me believe the play date is more for you two grown men than it is for your children.”

“Zayn is cool,” Louis admits and clears his throat before speaking again. “Niall is cool too.”

“He is cool,” Harry agrees. “I quite like him.”

“I’m sure once you make out you’ll like him even more,” Louis says, and the statement surprises Harry so much he nearly trips against Niall’s car.

“You’re a dick,” Harry hisses, looking furtively if anyone heard him. “And why would we make out?”

“Because you’re looking at each other like there’s nobody else in the room,” Louis says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Which, gross and cliché, I know, but I’m honestly surprised you haven’t already made a move.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry snaps, starting to become irritated, but before Louis can respond, the rest of the group catches up to them. 

“Are we ready to go?” Niall asks, walking up to Harry and pinching his side. Harry just nods, and they take about fifteen minutes to say goodbye and separate. 

Louis doesn’t say anything when they hug goodbye, but the looks he shoots him doesn’t leave Harry’s mind as Niall drives them home.

~

Gemma’s almost at the stage of her pregnancy where she can’t get up most of the time. The doctors had told her to limit her movement as much as possible, and she’s been pretty good about it, but—

“I’m bored,” Gemma whines from her place on her bed. Harry’s going through a draft on his laptop and looks up over his reading glasses to give her an unimpressed look. “Go bang your head against a wall—”

“Save it, Betty Draper,” Gemma snaps. She lets out a very long and very loud groan, and Harry tries to hide his amused grin behind his laptop. “I can’t believe how bored I am. I can’t even go outside.”

“Oh and what exactly were you gonna do outside?” Harry asks, going back to his computer. “Hike?”

“I hate not having the option to go outside, dickbag,” Gemma lets out another frustrated groan, and Harry decidedly snaps his laptop shut. “What do you want me to do, then, hmm?” he asks, taking his glasses off and throwing them on the coffee table. They were a dollar at a Dollar Tree, so he’s not so concerned with being careful. 

“Dance for me,” Gemma orders grumpily. “Dance, monkey! Dance!” Harry rolls his eyes, and stands up. He does a little shimmy that makes Gemma clap and giggle before he heads toward the kitchen. He’s only just steeping his tea when the doorbell rings and Gemma yells at him to get the door.

“Don’t yell!” Harry calls as he walks toward the foyer. He’s laughing at Gemma’s indistinguishable gibberish response when he opens the door and sees Niall in his work clothes, smiling and looking a little work-weary. They’ve been hanging out pretty frequently since the charity thing, so it’s not like Harry hasn’t seen Niall’s face, but Niall’s smile still warms him up.

“Well, hello!” Harry smiles at Niall who smiles back and honestly looks like is vibrating out of his skin. “Do you wanna come in?”

“Oh, no, I was just stopping by before we took off,” Niall grins at Harry, shuffling a little in the cold. Since Alma’s side of the family doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving, Niall is taking the twins on a road trip to see his own family upstate. “Does Gemma need anything?”

“What? No!” Only Niall would ask if he could do anything for Harry’s sister right before he’s due to be on the road. “She’s fine, just bored. Hey, can I say bye to the twins?”

“We’ll only be gone for a few days,” Niall reminds him, but steps back from the door so Harry can step out. Harry grabs his coat and shouts a quick ‘bye’ to Gemma before stepping outside. “Yeah, but I didn’t get to see them at all this week.”

“You’ll all live,” Niall huffs. Harry falls into an easy step with Niall as they stroll through the neighborhood to Niall’s house. “Although they’ve been a little insufferable about that, to be fair.”

“Aw, they missed me?” Harry grins down at Niall, who shoots him a hell of an unimpressed eye-roll. “Don’t flatter yourself,” Niall tells him. “Give them another whole week and they’ll forget all about you.”

“Don’t be mean,” Harry bumps his shoulder against Niall’s, who breaks into a reluctant grin. “What’s the plan for Thanksgiving, though? The entire Horan clan getting together to like, drink beer and drop a jig.”

“You’re an asshole, I don’t like you anymore.” Niall stuffs his hands inside his pockets, and Harry bumps his shoulder against his again. “My pop wouldn’t respond well to your blatant misrepresenting of our culture.”

“We meeting the parents, Niall? Feels a little soon.”

“Yeah, Maura can’t stop talking ‘bout ya,” Niall chuckles. “It’s gonna be good. Kids should be around their family, you know?”

Harry chews his lip, and considers his words before opening his mouth. “Are you close to your parents?”

“Oh yeah.” Niall nods and smiles as he seemingly starts thinking about his family. “My pop, especially; he’s the best guy around.”

“Is it hard not having your side of the family around?” Harry pulls his hands to fold them behind himself.

“Well,” Niall seems to struggle through this question. Harry watches as the line in between his eyebrows as he thinks through his answer. He probably doesn’t want to give an honest answer either, and Harry gets ready to backtrack when Niall opens his mouth again. “I guess I would like them to be closer, but…the kids do have family here, a big one. It’s not mine, but as long as they have family, I’m happy.”

“Why did you decide to live close to her family instead of yours?” Harry asks, and he hopes he’s not crossing any lines by asking so many family-related questions, but. He wants to know.

“Well, we did,” Niall replies, frowning down at the ground instead of looking back at Harry. “My parents live thirty minutes away from where Alma was going to med school, so we saw them pretty often, and they helped out with the kids a lot. Then we broke up on her second year, and we agreed to move closer to my parents, but then her mom got sick, so when it was time to look for hospitals where she could do her residency, it was kind of a no-brainer.” 

“So you moved too?” Harry asks, hoping he’s not crossing another boundary. 

“I wasn’t going to leave my babies,” Niall says, as if it was the most obvious decision to make, and for Niall, it probably was. It strikes Harry, at that moment; just how selfless Niall really is. His own father had booked it as soon as the ink had dried on the divorce papers, which hadn’t necessarily struck Harry as unusual, since it’s the only version of his father he’d ever known—distantly supportive but absent in most ways. 

“You’re a good dad,” Harry says, because it’s true, and Niall must know too, but he should be told this often and enthusiastically. 

Predictably, Niall colors instantly, and he scoffs and mumbles a sheepish, “Thanks,” before he opens the door to his house.

When they cross the threshold of the house, the kids rush to greet Harry with hugs and pleas for him to see the turkeys they made in class. It’s only when they rush to their bedroom to find their turkeys that he notices Fatima sitting in the couch, her daughter on her lap.

“I’m gonna go check if I have everything,” Niall says, and shoots him a smile before trudging over to his bedroom. 

“How’s the pretty lady?” Harry says, waving his hands at Saliha, who gurgles and smiles a toothless and adorable smile at Harry. He sits down next to Fatima, who smiles at him, and asks, “How are you, Harry?”

“Oh, much better now that I can see this gorgeous sweetie,” Harry says, and Fatima takes the hint and hands Saliha over. Saliha giggles and paws at Harry’s face. “How are you?”

“We’re all right,” Fatima says, leaning back against the couch and stretching her arms above her head. “Zayn’s at home, sleeping. It was his turn last night.” Harry only hums in understanding. “I haven’t really seen you since the concert. Thank you, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m glad you had fun,” Harry mumbles against Sali’s hair. “Why do babies smell so good? Is there a baby-scent candle I can get at Bath and Body Works?”

“I don’t think so,” Fatima muses, absentmindedly running her hand through the fringe of one of the couch’s pillows. “Which is why we had a baby in the first place—just for the smell.”

“Of course,” Harry nods, “Very good reason.”

Fatima laughs softly and takes a moment to watch as Harry bounces Sali on his lap before asking, “Are you going to miss the Horan clan this weekend?”

Harry frowns and pulls away from the way Saliha is trying to shove her fingers in his nose. “I think I’ll live.”

Fatima hums thoughtfully. “I remember the first time I was apart from Zayn when we started dating; I went on a family trip to Turkey that summer, and I was miserable. I sulked for two whole weeks, and as soon as I saw him again he hugged me so tight I thought my eyes were gonna pop out.”

And, OK, this conversation has taken a turn for the totally confusing. “That’s sweet, Fatima, but…I don’t know what that has to do with me and Niall.”

“Well, you spend most afternoons here, don’t you?” Fatima shoots him a confused look, and Harry tries not to squirm, because—

“We’re not dating,” Harry tells her, point-blank.

“I didn’t say you were,” Fatima says, slowly. “I just said you spend a lot of your afternoons here.”

Harry barrels on, “We’re friends. Close friends, but. Friends.”

“Um.”

“It’s like…OK, yeah, we hang out. A lot. Most weekends, but that’s what friends do, right? I mean, I haven’t had friends that I hang out with this regularly since college, but that’s only because I’ve been _moving_ so much, you know? I haven’t had the chance to set a schedule with anyone.”

“That’s all right.”

“And, like, Niall is available, you know? Not that he’s like, a hermit or whatever, but he’s _there_ and he laughs at my jokes and his kids are delightful, and I have fun when I’m around them, you know?”

Harry pauses to take a breath and hold Saliha close to his chest. She’s functioning as somewhat of a security blanket at the moment. “I’m not dating Niall.”

“Thanks for the clarification,” Fatima shrugs, but the knowing smile on her face makes Harry narrow his eyes.

“You are welcome.” Harry nods his head once haughtily. “Platonic pals. No intimacy in our relationship at all.” He moves to hand Saliha back to Fatima, and she takes her with tender hands.

“You know, what I’ve found,” Fatima begins, placing a much more subdued Saliha on her lap, “Intimacy is a really…flexible concept.”

~

Harry tries to push Fatima’s words out of his mind. His mom and stepdad spend their Thanksgiving at Gemma’s, as well as Mark’s own parents and siblings. The house is spent full, and Harry is too busy to dwell on whatever Fatima’s perceptions might be about his relationship with Niall.

“What do you think about this one?” Harry turns the laptop toward Gemma, who struggles to lean forward and get a good look at the pair of boots on the screen. It’s almost December, and Harry likes to get his Christmas shopping done relatively early. He’s already got Mark’s gift—an Alien limited edition poster for his collection—tucked safely under his bed.

“Well, I’m sure I would love them,” Gemma starts, lying back down. “If my elephant feet could fit into them.”

“Oh come on, they won’t be that size forever,” Harry reminds her. Gemma’s been especially crabby as the holidays approach. She’s officially not allowed to move around until the baby comes, doctor’s orders, and she’s more insufferable than ever. Harry finds consolation in the fact that her due date is almost exactly a month from today. The date ‘January 13’ is circled in his calendar about fifty times, and he’s got an alarm for midnight on that day. If that baby doesn’t just slide out of her, Harry doesn’t know what he’ll do.

“I’m getting you these,” Harry informs her, snapping his laptop shut, re-thinks it, and opens it up again. He clicks through Amazon until he gets to the children’s toys section.

“You’re not getting me a dollhouse, H,” Gemma mumbles from behind him a few minutes later. He’s moved on to an Etsy shop that sells custom-made dollhouses of any shape or size, and Harry can’t decide between one that’s shaped like a cube or one that’s a replica of the Pentagon. 

“This isn’t for you, not everything is about you,” Harry informs her, running a finger absentmindedly across his lower lip as he scrolls through the page. “I’m trying to find some presents for the Horan twins. I don’t think Annie would want a dollhouse either, though.”

Behind him, Harry hears a considering hum cut through the air, and he turns back at Gemma and frowns at her contemplative look she’s got on her face. “What?”

“Nothing! Just maybe the Horan father would have a pretty good idea about what to get the Horan twins for Christmas, don’t you think?”

“Probably. I’m gonna text him.” Harry stands up to walk to the guest bedroom and ignores the snort of derision that Gemma shoots his way. He bypasses texting entirely and just calls Niall, hoping that he isn’t busy. It’s Wednesday past 8 pm, so if the kids weren’t being bratty Niall should probably be either doing something around the house or looking through some work he took home from the office.

“What’s up?” Niall answers after three rings. He doesn’t sound annoyed exactly, just pretty tired. 

“Oh, you know—”

“No dumb jokes, Harry,” Niall orders, more severe than usual. “I don’t think I could take it after the day I’ve had.”

“Tough day at the office, honeybun?” Harry asks jokingly, but he closes the door behind himself and gets ready to listen to whatever Niall has to say.

Niall lets out a long breath before speaking again. He launches into a story about how the mother of a family he’s been working with for the past year was just deported back to Honduras because of some clerical error. He talks about how he’d spent his entire day with the family, had to leave the twins with Alma’s family because he’d only managed to head home an hour ago. Then he goes on a rant about the U.S. immigration system, more specifically, how it doesn’t work, or how it _works_ just not in favor of those who desperately try to use it. 

“How is a kid supposed to grow up happy if they don’t have their mom?” Niall asks angrily. “Like, whatever, I work with kids who don’t have their parents pretty regularly, but Ana _thought_ she’d have her mom with her, and now she doesn’t? How do you deal with that kind of disappointment?” On the other side of the phone, Niall lets out a shaky breath. “That’s the worst part too, you know? She reminds me of Annie. Five years old, same name and everything—Ana María. Jesus Christ, I almost lost it in front of her and her dad; I was so unprofessional.”

Harry can’t help the feeble “Oh, Niall” that comes out of his mouth. He’s never heard Niall sound so _helpless_ before, and he desperately wants to help.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Niall apologizes, and sighs heavily against the receiver. “I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry.”

“Hey, Niall?”

“Yeah?” Niall sighs.

“Do you want me to come over?” Harry asks.

“You don’t have to, Harry,” Niall mumbles, embarrassment coloring his voice. 

“Well, can I come over anyway?” Harry asks, 

There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line before Niall speaks again.

“Yeah, Harry.”

~

They don’t end up doing much except for watching a re-run of a football game on TV that night. Harry ends up falling asleep on the couch and only wakes up at around 6:30 when Niall is getting ready for work. Harry makes Niall some coffee and sees him off. He doesn’t end up asking him about Christmas presents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen, i know and i'm sorry and if you find any mistakes drag me thankssomuch


	4. i just got the taste for it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry

“Why don’t you live in Florida?” Harry asks, pacing idly in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of his hotel. His room has a breathtaking view of the Atlantic, and he takes a minute to regret the fact that he will only be in Miami for the one day of the artisanal orange juice convention he’s been asked to write about (it’s the first annual convention, but from the concept, Harry kind of thinks it might be the last).

“Because Mom doesn’t live in Florida,” Gemma says, her voice sounding very bored through the phone. “Because Mark’s family does not live in Florida.”

“We should all move to Florida,” Harry insists, leaning against the window. 

“Well, you can move to Florida,” Gemma mumbles absentmindedly. “After you’re done here.”

Harry lets out a low hum, and he supposes he could. He doesn’t have any longstanding commitments, no leases to hold to, nobody to hold him back. There is nothing stopping him from moving out of Gemma’s place and right to Miami if he so wished.

“I don’t think I’d like it here in the long run,” Harry says. “Too humid.”

“Yeah,” Gemma hums in agreement. “Your hair would be something, wouldn’t it?”

~

It doesn’t get too cold back home, but the weather difference between northern California and Florida is so extreme, Harry ends up getting sick. It’s a throat thing, but he freaks out and doesn’t want to get Gemma sick too, so instead of going back to her place, he asks Louis if he can crash at his for a few days until he feels better and un-infectious. Louis, of course, tells him to sleep in the park if he doesn’t want to get anybody sick—the truth is that he has Freddie for the weekend and he doesn’t want to expose his son to Harry’s sickness—so Harry ends up crashing with Liam instead. 

The guest bedroom in Liam’s apartment is comfortable enough—he’s got a TV and even a really nice desk where Harry can finish the article that he’s got due in a few hours. It’s really nice, yeah, but it’s not…He doesn’t consider Gemma’s guest bedroom his home exactly, but for the last three months, it’s come pretty close. 

But beside that, beside having Gemma so close and having a daily routine that hasn’t been altered by excessive travel, he is too old to deny himself the luxury of admitting when something makes him deliriously happy and, embarrassingly enough, the thing that makes him deliriously happy these days is spending time with Niall and his children. 

“Harry,” Liam says, knocking rhythmically on the closed door. “Bro, Chloe and I are going out for drinks, you wanna come?”

“Um,” Harry mumbles, rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb. “You know, I’m still feeling real sick, Leemo.” 

“Oh well,” Liam says, an apologetic tone creeping up his voice. “Feel better, then! There’s tea and stuff in the kitchen, if you want. If you need anything else just call me!”

“Thanks, Li,” Harry calls out, voice still hoarse. Truthfully, he’s feeling much better than he did a few days ago, but he also does not feel up to what will probably end up being more than a few drinks, if he knows Liam as well as he thinks he does.

A few minutes later, he hears a faint “Bye, Harry!” and the door shutting loudly. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Liam’s a great friend, and he’s so fun to be around, but he’s a bit of a hoverer, and Harry is looking forward to a night in by himself. 

It’s an hour later, after he’s miraculously sent the piece to his editor with hours to spare, and he can’t decide between catching up on _The Great British Bake Off_ or just going to sleep embarrassingly early. He’s changing out of his jeans when his phone starts ringing from its place on the desk. He kicks his jeans off and shuffles across the room to pick up his phone. The screen is lit up with a photo of Niall smiling at something in the distance—a photo Harry had sneakily taken during the last neighborhood potluck—and Harry can’t help how his mouth instantly forms a smile. 

“Oh, hello,” Harry says, dragging out the last o’s to an obnoxious length.

“You idiot,” Niall grumbles. “I can’t believe you manage to be annoying in just two words.”

“Well, who called whom, Niall?” Harry points out haughtily, to which Niall responds with a scoff.

“The kids wanted to talk to you,” Niall says through a dramatic and very fake sigh. “Don’t know why, really—”

“Shut up and pass them to me,” Harry interrupts, quickly becoming impatient with Niall when he could be talking to people who actually like him. 

With a long-suffering sigh (Niall is really good at sighing, which is annoying but also not annoying in a super confusing way) and there is a muffled conversation before the twins’ voices almost deafen his right ear. 

“Am I on speaker?” Harry asks after a few minutes of the twins yelling their greetings and stumbling over the news they’ve gathered over the last week that they haven’t seen him. 

“Yeah,” Niall says, and Harry can almost see him, looking on as the twins babble on, stack of files next to him and going through something in his laptop. “Didn’t want the kids fighting over the phone.”

“Oh come on, Niall,” Harry says, stretching over the bed. “My sweet angels wouldn’t fight, would they?”

“We don’t fight!” Annie assures him, and Harry can almost see her nod enthusiastically. “We’re _so_ good!”

“I knew it, of course,” Harry laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Which is why I wanna know what I should get you guys for Christmas.”

He shouldn’t be surprised by the screams that follow, as well as by how they fall over themselves to list all the things they want for Christmas. They talk for a bit, and their list varies from reasonable items like dolls and car toys to the extravagant, namely a cow. 

“Don’t you think a cow would be a little too big for the backyard, darlin'?” Niall asks mildly. 

“No, Papi,” Robbie says simply.

“Cows live in farms, not houses!” Annie declares confidently, but after a moment, she asks, a little less sure, “Right?”

“Yes, petal,” Niall assures her. “Sorry, Robbie, we’ll get you a cow when you’re older.”

“OK,” Robbie lets out a heavy sigh that makes Harry almost get up to Google if there are any dairy farms in the area. “Can we get a dog?”

“We’ll talk about that later,” Niall says, and Harry can hear some shuffling before his voice becomes louder. “It’s time for bed, munchkins. Say good-bye to Harry.”

There is some hemming and hawing from the twins as well as from Harry, but eventually they grumble their good-byes before Harry hears them shuffle away.

“Well, I have to read them a story and sing them a song, so,” Niall says, as if this is a chore, even though Harry knows for a fact he loves this ritual he’s seen only a handful of times. “You feeling any better, bro?”

“Yes, bro,” Harry says with complete earnestness. “Why, you been missing me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Niall says, but it’s not a scoff, and it comes off softer than he usually speaks to Harry after he’s been teasing. Harry smiles and misses him terribly. “I hope you weren’t serious about the presents, Harry. It’s really not necessary.”

“Of course it’s necessary,” now it’s Harry’s turn to scoff. “It’s Christmas!”

Niall lets out a long and world-weary sigh. “You’re gonna get them something obnoxious no matter what I say, aren’t you?”

Harry only hums.

~

“So how do you feel about leather jackets?” Harry asks, scrolling through his tablet, which he’s got held close to his face as he lies on Niall’s bed. It occurs to Harry that it is childish and inappropriate for two grown men to be lying on a bed, hanging out. It also occurs to Harry that Niall smells like sandalwood, and that the position they’re in makes it easier for him to feel the warmth emanating from Niall’s body. 

“I’ve never owned one,” Niall mumbles, clicking through some stuff on his computer. His glasses are perched on his nose, and he’s got a line between his eyebrows that Harry has found he always wants to smooth out when it appears. “Don’t think I look good in ‘em, either.”

That seems hard to believe, as, embarrassingly enough, Harry truly thinks Niall would look good wearing anything, even cargo shorts. Harry closes the tab where he was looking through leather jackets anyway. 

“Hey,” Niall says, suddenly pushing his laptop so Harry can see the screen. “Did you know the International Space Station will be visible to us next Thursday?”

“Of course I didn’t,” Harry says, shuffling closer to Niall to see the screen, although closeness doesn’t really help, because Harry has absolutely no idea what he’s looking at.

“I think I’ll show it to the kids next week, push their bedtime a little bit later,” Niall says, scrolling through the page, the screen reflecting against his glasses. 

“That sounds really nice,” Harry mumbles, snuggling against the pillow. “Are you really into astrology, Niall?”

“It’s astronomy, Harry,” Niall laughs, shutting his laptop closed and turning to put it in a the drawer of his bedside table. “And yeah, I really like it. I’ve always been kind of into space and the planets and stuff.”

“Did you ever want to be an astronaut?” Harry asks jokingly.

“Yes,” Niall laughs, rolling his eyes at himself. “My first year of undergrad, I was an astronomy and physics double major, until I wrecked my knee and I knew it wouldn’t happen.”

“You still could’ve worked at NASA, couldn’t you?” Harry asks, running his thumb through his bottom lip, looking at Niall through his lashes. 

“I mean, I could’ve found work with those majors,” Niall mumbles, shifting a little so that he’s on his side, facing Harry. “But I took a class about social inequality in education, and I decided to switch my major to social work.”

“Not education?” Harry asks, ever curious about Niall’s entire life.

“I like the interpersonal aspect of social work,” Niall explains, shrugging. “I think a teacher can get through to a lot of kids at once, but not for an extended period of time. I like the fact that I can see my kids grow up and help them through the years. And I like the fact that I get to really know them and their families really well.”

“That’s so nice,” Harry mumbles, unable to be anything but completely earnest. “You’re the nicest guy.”

Niall rolls his eyes, but even with only the dim light of the bedside lamp illuminating his face, Harry can see the blush start to appear on his cheeks. “But can we stop talking about me, I’m putting myself to sleep here.”

“Now who’s being ridiculous,” Harry mumbles, going in to punch Niall in the arm, but his hand just lies limply on his shoulder. “Although I am getting sleepy, so I should go soon.”

“Yeah, y’should,” Niall mumbles, but neither of them make a move to get up. 

“Yeah.”

“Mmm.”

~

Harry ends up in Niall’s couch, and when he wakes up at 5 A.M., he forces himself to stand up and leave for Gemma’s. This is the first time.

~

“I have a proposition for you,” Niall says, as soon as Harry presses his ear to his phone. 

“Why, Mr. Horan, I do declare—”

“Shut up for once,” Niall laughs, and Harry has never loved being told to be quiet more than every time Niall does it. “So I asked Al if there was a way I could get a hold of a wheelchair for a day, and she said she could pull some strings and lend me one as long as I was discrete and picked it up and took it back myself.”

“Well, that’s all well and good,” Harry mumbles, stretching out on his seat in the kitchen table a little bit. “But I’m not really into that kind of stuff. If you want to talk about a little bit of bondage, sure, I’ll—”

“Oh my God,” Niall groans, and he’s probably turning beet red. “No, shut up. What I’m trying to say is that if you wanted, you could take Gemma out for a day. She’d just use the wheelchair, and voila.” 

“Oh.” Harry mumbles. “That’s…why hadn’t I thought of that before.”

“Because you spend 20 hours of your day thinking about your clothes,” Niall says. “And the other four hours of the day looking at yourself in the mirror.”

“You know,” Harry says, stirring some sugar into his tea. “One of these days you’ll be so mean to me I’ll just stop talking to you.”

“Sure, pal,” Niall laughs before hanging up. 

~

“Papi, can I have a funny cake?” Annie asks from her perch on Niall’s arms. 

“In a few minutes, baby,” Niall tells her, hiking her up on his hip. “We’ll stop by the food trucks in a bit.”

“Funny cake?” Harry asks, leaning in to whisper in Niall’s ear.

“Funnel,” Niall clarifies, rolling his eyes good naturedly. “Usually I’d correct her but I think it’s kind of cute.”

“It is pretty adorable,” Harry agrees, and he falls back to wait for Gemma and Mark to catch up. 

“It feels good to be out in the world,” Gemma says, taking a deep and dramatic breath of air. “With people.”

“We went grocery shopping yesterday,” Mark informs her, pushing her along in her wheelchair. “You went to the mall with your mom last Saturday.”

“It’s good to see the sky,” Gemma continues, unbothered. “Aren’t the stars beautiful?”

Mark only heaves a heavy sigh before turning to Harry. “Who raised you people?”

Harry chooses not to respond.

They’re at this park in the middle of town, and the local government has decorated it in Christmas lights. It’s pretty cute, and it makes something inside Harry warm up despite the chilly weather. When Niall had suggested the whole wheelchair thing, he’d also mentioned the park, and when Harry had suggested this plan to Gemma, she’d jumped at the chance. It just so happened that Niall and Alma were taking the kids to the park on this day too.

It all worked out pretty well, as far as Harry is concerned.

Just then, Robbie runs past Harry to catch up with his father. He trips on his own feet, but when he falls and lands on his hands, he gets up before Harry can say anything or run up to him to help him up. 

“He’s so clumsy,” Harry mumbles, and he can’t help the smile that comes over his face. 

“He’s always falling down,” Alma sighs, catching up to Harry. He looks down at her, and he follows the direction of where she’s smiling at Niall and the kids. “I don’t know where gets it from. I’ve got poise.”

“And Niall?” Harry asks, putting his hands in his coat pockets. “Is he graceful?”

“He keeps himself solidly on two feet, for the most part,” Alma informs him. “Except for those few months our freshman year after his knee surgery.”

“Surgery?” Harry asks, head snapping down to frown down at her. “What happened?”

“He just always had a bad knee,” Alma elaborates, pulling her beanie back a little. “It was always gonna need surgery, so finally he did it the summer before our second year of college.”

“I can’t imagine Niall on bed rest,” Harry admits, running a hand through his hair. Ahead of them, Niall is wrangling the kids for a picture in front of a life-size gingerbread house. “He must have been going crazy.”

“It was hard for him,” Alma sighs, looking as through she’s reliving the memory. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Niall isn’t the best at sitting still.”

“You know, I had an inkling,” Harry says drily, watching on as Niall gathers the twins so he can take a selfie with them. “He doesn’t seem bothered by it. His knee, I mean.”

“It’s just one of those things, you know,” Alma shrugs, and at that moment, Niall catches their attention and waves enthusiastically for them to catch up to him and the kids. “A small bump, and then you move on and forget all about it except when it rains.”

“Wait, what?” Harry asks, but Alma walks ahead of him to bumrush Annie and pick her up and twirl her around.

“Hey,” Niall greets Harry, who can’t help but grin as Robbie runs up to him and starts talking a mile a minute. “What were you two gossiping about?”

“I don’t gossip,” Harry huffs, then turns his full attention to Robbie’s longwinded story about meeting Santa a few days before.

About half an hour later, they’ve walked through the entirety of the park, and the twins’ faces are white with powdered sugar. Despite the amount of sugar they’ve consumed, they look pretty tired, and it doesn’t take long for Annie to drop the remnants of her funnel cake on the ground and demand Niall pick her up. 

“Now you throw that away in the trash can over there and then I’ll pick you up,” Niall orders gently. Annie lets out a long-suffering sigh before picking up the plate and dragging her feet to throw it away in a garbage can a few feet away.

“Shit,” Niall mutters, and when Harry turns to look at him, he notices how Niall is balancing himself on his right leg and is trying to be surreptitious about stretching his left one. 

“Your knee,” Harry guesses out loud, and Niall visibly flinches.

“So that’s what Al was yappin’ about, huh,” Niall jokes, but it falls pretty flat on Harry’s ears. “It’s not as bad as you think.”

“You don’t know what I think, Niall.”

“No, but I can imagine, and you’re a writer—your kind are very dramatic and prone to exaggeration.”

“Niall,” Harry says, trying to go for serious for once. Thankfully, Niall drops his grimace-smile and looks kind of sheepishly at Harry. “Unfortunately, one of the side effects of spending time with you is that I’ve gotten pretty good at knowing when you’re being a stubborn idiot.”

“Maybe I should stop spending time with you, then,” Niall suggests, but there’s a smile playing at the edge of his mouth, and Harry knows he’s won something.

“You wouldn’t break my heart like that, would ya, Niall?” 

“What heart?” Niall scoffs, but when Annie walks back, he lets Harry pick her up in his arms. 

~

“What do you want me to say?” Harry asks, spreading his hands defensively. “I guess I have magical hands.”

“You’re an idiot,” Louis says, clearing up the plates from the table. “I can’t get Fred to eat broccoli on a regular day, and how the fuck did you get him to eat kale?”

“You shouldn’t curse within earshot of children,” Harry says, closing the lid on some leftovers, never mind the fact that the kids are with Liam, Zayn, Niall, and Fatima in the backyard. “And don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy my salad.”

“How come everything you say comes off as gross?” Louis asks, jumping onto the counter. 

“You’re welcome for dinner,” Harry says pointedly and starts going through the dishes. “The kids and Freddie seem to be getting along pretty well.”

“Yeah, we’re one big happy family,” Louis says, and it lacks some of the snark that Harry’s grown used to. “So when are you popping the big question?”

“You know,” Harry sighs, “this whole thing is gonna start getting old soon.”

“Believe me, it’s already old,” Louis assures him, but he kicks Harry lightly on the side to show him he’s just joking. “I wouldn’t keep bringing this up if I didn’t think something was bothering you. You know that, right?”

“Nothing is bothering me,” Harry assures him. “And we’re gonna have to move on from thinking I’m in love with Niall eventually.”

“I don’t think you’re in love with Niall,” Louis says. “I think you’ve spent a large percentage of the last three months around this guy and his family, and I know that you haven’t spent this much time in one place since we were in college.”

“I don’t move around that much,” Harry scoffs. “I’ve been in one place for three months, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Yeah, remember Tibet?” Liam’s voice comes from behind Harry, and when he turns around he’s walking into the kitchen, looking at something on his phone. “Seven months, wasn’t that?”

“You’re thinking of Brad Pitt, buddy,” Louis says, not unkindly. “But Harry was in Tibet for like two weeks.”

“I was on assignment,” Harry argues, scrubbing a pan a little harder than necessary. “And I was there for 18 days.”

“Well, what about Toronto,” Liam suggests. “Weren’t you there for a bit?”

“Yeah,” Harry nods, feeling somewhat vindicated. “I was there for six months.”

“Whatever,” Louis flaps his hand to dismiss the conversation. “My point is, and as much as it pains me to be this sincere to you, it’s kind of nice to be able to make plans with you weeks in advance.”

“Speaking of,” Liam interjects, propping his chin on Harry’s shoulder. “We wanna go to Disneyworld in June. You think you’d be up for it?”

“I’ll think about,” Harry says, finally turning off the tap and grabbing a tea towel to dry his hands. “But that would be really nice.”

Liam just nudges his nose at Harry’s temple with his forehead before moving away from Harry’s personal space. Harry, who enjoys Liam invading his personal space, opens his mouth to protest when he hears the kids yell and giggle as they run back inside the house. 

“No running!” Niall orders uselessly, but the footsteps have already slowed down, and Harry can hear the TV turn on in the living room. 

“Hey,” Fatima pops her head through the kitchen doorway. “Sali’s knocked out, so we’re gonna head home.”

“Sure,” Harry pushes himself away from the counter and makes his way to give Fatima a hug. “I’d offer some leftovers, but it was all so delicious that it’s completely gone.”

A spatula comes flying past Harry’s right ear.

“Thanks anyway,” Fatima laughs, and they start walking toward the front of the house, the kids’ yelling getting louder. “And thanks for cooking. Niall cooks really well, but he’s not great at having vegetarian options.”

“I guess that’s what I’m here for,” Harry shrugs, running his hand through his hair. 

“Hey, babe,” Zayn says as they walk up to him where he’s standing near the front door, baby in his arms. Wordlessly, Fatima leans in to kiss Zayn on the cheek and grab little Saliha from his arms. 

“We’ll see you later, Harry,” Fatima shoots him a sweet smile, and Harry notices Zayn nodding at something behind him, and when he turns he sees Liam waving enthusiastically and Louis nodding coolly back. “Bye, everyone!”

The kids yell their good-byes in unison, and when Harry turns their attention to the rest of the room after Zayn and Fatima have walked out the door, he notices that Niall is nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, Annie,” Harry leans down and runs a hand through Annie’s hair to get her attention. “Where’s your dad?”

“I ‘unno,” she shrugs, not peeling her eyes away from the screen. Harry frowns at his friends’ lack of concern—Louis is settling in on the couch, placing Freddie on his lap and Liam is sitting down on the recliner with a beer in his hand.

“I’m gonna go look for him,” Harry mumbles mostly to himself. No one turns to watch him walk toward the backyard. 

He doesn’t know what makes him head toward the backyard, but he finds Niall there, bundled in his coat and a thick scarf, lying comfortably on the grass.

“You’re gonna catch a cold,” Harry informs him, sliding the glass door shut after himself as he walks outside. 

“Speaks the guy who wears tissue paper for a shirt,” Niall mumbles, and Harry kicks his shoulder lightly before lowering himself to lie down next to him. “Oh, hey, he owns sweaters.”

“Shut up,” Harry mumbles, turning to burry his face against Niall’s shoulder. “Looking at the stars?”

“You know I am,” Niall sighs, rubbing at his nose a little. “Thanks for making dinner tonight. It was wonderful.”

Harry can’t help the huge smile that overtakes his face at the compliment. Thankfully, Niall’s eyes don’t leave the sky. “You know I like cooking.”

“Still,” Niall sighs, and finally his head turns a bit so he looks at Harry. “I don’t take it for granted, you know. Everything you’ve done for the kids and for me. I just want you to know that I’m really grateful.” 

“Hey,” Harry breathes, and if he leaned in just one inch closer, he could press his lips against Niall’s. “What are friends for?”

~

The first thing Harry notices when he wakes up is the clammy hand pawing at his face. 

“Harry,” he hears a little whisper in his ear. “Are you awake?” Harry struggles to turn onto his back on the couch. He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep last night after he’d brought Niall some left-over quiche he’d made earlier and they’d watched The Bachelor together. Throughout the weeks, it’s become somewhat of a common occurrence, and Harry can’t help but fall into it.

“Harry?” he hears another voice from below him. Finally, he opens his eyes to find Annie standing in front of him and Robbie sitting on the floor next to him. He sits up and shoots them both a shy smile. “What’s up, pumpkin?”

“Good morning, Harry,” Annie says, and smiles at him. She’s wearing cargo pants and an oversized sweatshirt, and her hair is in low pigtails. He can’t help it when he boops her nose when he tells her “Good morning.”

“Do you want a banana, Harry?” Robbie asks, holding a banana up to him. “Papi says you like 'em, and stuff.”

“Thank you, buddy,” Harry tells him, grabbing the banana from his hand. “Have you guys had breakfast?”

“Yes,” Robbie nods, while Annie climbs on top of Harry to elaborate. “Papi made us oatmeal because it’s so cold outside. He left some for you too!”

“Oh, that’s so nice of him, honey,” Harry says, and sits up to hug her. Quietly, Robbie gets up from his spot on the floor and sits down next to Harry. “Are you two ready for school?”

“It’s our last day!” Robbie says, so excited he nearly falls sideways. “We’re having a pizza party and then our mommy’s picking us up early today.”

“Oh, that sounds so fun,” Harry says, and lets Annie run her hands through his hair. “Your hair is curly like our mommy’s.”

“You have curly hair too,” Harry tells her, and pulls one of her curls to spring out.

“Are you monsters ready?” Niall asks as he enters the living room. He’s pulling this blue sweater over his standard white button-up, and when he pulls his head out, his hair is only a little disheveled. “Sorry to wake ya, Harry. There’s some coffee in the pot if you want, and, like, anything else in the kitchen, obviously.” The kids get up from their perch on the couch and on Harry and run toward the foyer to start putting their coats on. 

Harry gets up to follow Niall as he puts on his own coat. “Oh, I should probably go home, and let you guys leave.”

Niall looks up at Harry after he’s put his overcoat on and bites his lip, considering, before speaking up again. “If you want to stay for a bit, you can just lock up afterwards? Our spare key is under the ceramic frog next to the welcome mat.”

“Would you be all right with that?”

“I think if you wanted to rob us you would have done that a long time ago,” Niall reasons, and Harry rolls his eyes but steps forward to fix Niall’s tie where it’s gone a little askew. “Besides, you’re barely awake—I couldn’t just kick you out when you look like this.”

“I look hot.”

“You look dead on your feet.”

“Not mutually exclusive,” Harry teases but he can feel his cheeks heating up, and he steps back, clears his throat, and puts his hands on his pockets. “Well you don’t want to be late.”

Niall looks at his wristwatch and mumbles a quick “Shoot” before turning back to the twins, who have been putting their shoes on and talking about something or other below them. “Say goodbye to Harry, guys.”

“Bye, Harry!” the kids say in unison and open the door to rush toward the car. “No running!” Niall calls after them as he picks up his own backpack from the floor and his keys from the bowl on the table next to the door. 

“Have a nice day at work,” Harry says, absentmindedly looking past the door at the kids climbing into the car. He feels more than sees Niall press his lips quickly against his cheek before he shoots him a quick, “Thanks, bye!” and rushes out the door.

“Yeah, bye,” Harry mumbles numbly after Niall shuts the door behind himself.

~

The days leading up to Christmas are a whirlwind of decorating and shopping and getting ready to house Harry and Gemma’s mom and stepdad, as well as Mark’s entire huge family. Because of Gemma’s bedridden status, the family had decided to host Christmas at Gemma and Mark's house, despite the fact that it is way too small to house the huge combination of the Styles and Bonneville clans. As the days go on, and there is less time to get things done and less space for Harry to get around, Harry thinks he’ll lose his mind.

“At least I don’t have to cook,” Gemma mumbles, munching on a sugar cookie and flipping a page of her magazine.

“When have you cooked a Christmas meal in your life?” Harry’s mom asks her from her spot inside the kitchen. She’s basting the turkey or something—Harry isn’t allowed in the kitchen unless something cold is being cooked because of all the potential fire hazards. You set one turkey on fire once.

“Don’t be mean to her!” Mark’s mother laughs beside her. “She’s carrying our grandchild; she never has to cook again in her life as far as I’m concerned.”

“Good thing she doesn’t,” Mark says dryly and only flinches a little when Gemma pinches his nipple.

Harry chuckles down at his iPad screen and swipes another e-mail into the trash. He’s reading some article about an artist that paints only using her own vomit when a message from Niall comes through. When he swipes to read it, he finds that it’s a photo of the twins in matching Christmas sweaters and hot chocolate mustaches on their matching grins, and it’s captioned _last day before all the craziness ! quiet night_ followed by a bunch of Christmas tree emojis.

“Hey, I’m gonna go out for a bit,” Harry calls out to the room in general as he gets up from his perch on the floor.

“Where to?” Robin asks, looking up from his own tablet.

“Oh, I’ve just got to deliver some presents that I’d forgotten about,” Harry tells him before walking to the linen closet to take out the wrapped packages he’d left there to make room for his mother and Robin’s things. He’s camped out in the couch for the duration of their visit, so most of his stuff is relocated.

“Who to?” Gemma asks, a line forming between her eyebrows. Harry can feel his ears heat up, so he looks down at his boxes when he replies. “Some stuff for Niall and the twins.”

“Who’s Niall?” Robin asks, and Gemma follows with an eerily dry, “We already sent the twins some presents, Harry.”

“Yeah, well,” Harry shrugs, walking toward the foyer to put his coat on. “I bought them some presents myself.”

“Of course you did,” Harry hears Mark say as he pulls his coat on. Harry just ignores him as he picks the presents back up and opens the door. “I’ll be back in half an hour!” Harry calls out as he makes his way outside. 

It’s only seven p.m. but the night is freezing, and he regrets not putting a scarf on soon enough, but, as always, the walk to Niall’s house is short. He struggles to ring the doorbell while he’s holding the boxes in his arms, but he manages well enough, and soon he hears the familiar pair of tiny but swift strides on the other side of the door, and then a set of longer, more measured ones. When Niall opens the door, Harry only gets to admire his warm and open smile before the twins are jumping up and down and begging for his attention.

“Are those for us?” Annie asks immediately after she sees the wrapped presents. Robbie follows with an enthusiastic, “Harry! We got a present for you too! How did you know?”

“Let him breathe, guys,” Niall tells them, pulling them back by the necks of their sweaters and letting Harry get inside. “Put these under the tree, all right?” They grab the packages and run to the direction of the tree, and Niall moves to help Harry with his coat. Harry doesn’t wave him off.

“At the risk of sounding unbearably cliché,” Niall says, hanging his coat on the rack. “You didn’t have to.”

“Promise me you’ll call as soon as you guys open your gifts.” Harry waits until Niall turns around to look at him with that raised eyebrow look he gives him all the time before answering. “And in case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t do anything I don’t want to, Niall.”

Niall breathes in, long and deep, and the expression on his face is really hard for Harry to decipher, but he ends up saying, “We’re watching _Home Alone_ if you’re interested.”

“Oh, I’m interested,” Harry grins, following Niall to the living room. He settles on one side of the couch as Niall settles on the other, and silently they watch the kids shake Harry’s presents to try to find out what’s in the boxes. 

“Papi can we open the presents right now?” Annie asks, hugging her present to her chest. “Please?”

"You have to wait until Christmas, petal,” Niall informs them, settling down on the couch. The twins sigh dejectedly, but they shuffle to sit between Harry and Niall, Annie climbing on her dad’s lap while Robbie snuggles under the throw blanket next to Harry.

The twins stay up for the whole movie, but they conk out as soon as Macaulay Culkin gets lost in New York during the second one. Harry helps Niall carry Annie to bed while he carries Robbie in his arms, and when he settles back on the couch, he can hear the sound of Niall’s voice softly singing to the kids. Soon enough it’s just the two of them nursing a pair of beers and watching the rest of the movie. 

“What’s your favorite Christmas movie, Niall?” Harry asks, rolling his neck against the back of the couch to look at Niall, who is tucked into the far left side of the couch, bad knee propped up on the coffee table which is littered with toys and papers and colored pencils.

" _Die Hard_ ," Niall answers immediately. “And if you tell me that doesn’t count I’m kicking you out without your coat.”

“I wasn’t gonna say a thing, Niall,” Harry assures him primly. “Mine’s _Love, Actually_ probably. Or _When Harry Met Sally_.”

Niall scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You’re such a weirdo.”

“Well excuse me, Niall—”

“ _When Harry Met Sally_ isn’t a Christmas movie; it takes place in like, a span of ten years!”

“It ends at Christmas!”

“It ends at _New Years_ , Harry.”

“Close enough,” Harry harumphs crosses his arms. “It feels like Christmas. That’s what matters.”

“You’re such a weirdo,” Niall repeats, but the smile he’s shooting Harry gives him pause.

Harry clears his throat and looks away from Niall’s face and back to the TV. “Hey so,” Harry starts and clears his throat again before continuing. “Has Alma sent you on any more dates?”

“Oh,” Niall clears his own throat before answering. “Yeah, just two. These gals from the hospital—a nurse and an accountant. It was those times you were away for like, your job? They weren’t memorable, so I didn’t bring them up.”

Harry examines the way Niall picks at the label of his beer bottle. “I feel a little neglected, Niall. I thought we shared everything.”

“Stuff it, creep,” Niall snorts, and the way he rolls his eyes at Harry makes the tension on Harry’s chest ease up a little. “My romantic pursuits are probably a tenth as exciting as yours anyway.”

“Oh that’s…” Harry trails off when he tries to remember the last date he’s been on. He hooked up with one of the guests at a Christmas party he'd been to last week, and that had been the first person since October. And he definitely hasn’t been on a proper date in months. “Your love life is more active than mine as of late, actually, Niall.”

“Well I find that hard to believe.”

“Why?”

“Are you—” Niall stops himself before he finishes that thought, but he turns the cutest shade of red anyway. “You’re young and charming and—handsome.”

“I’m also discerning,” Harry holds eye contact with Niall and bites his lip once before finishing his thought. “It takes someone very special to catch my attention.”

The apples of Niall’s cheeks turn even redder, but he laughs and rolls his eyes. “Wasn’t it just three months ago that you were flirting with me in your sister’s backyard?”

Harry frowns at that, confused. “Yes, and I don’t see how that fact contradicts that assertion.”

“Yeah, I was just—” Niall cuts himself off by clearing his throat. “Anyway, yeah, those dates went all right, but I didn’t really feel like pursuing either of them, you know? Sometimes it just doesn’t work out.”

“Yeah,” Harry mumbles, running a hand through his hair. “Sometimes it just happens that way.”

~

Christmas goes pretty smoothly; Mark’s family is loud and big and rambunctious and Harry’s family is small but just as rowdy, so they have a lot of fun, as is usually the case. Or that’s what Harry’s told—this is the first time he’s been in a big family happening in forever it seems. 

He doesn’t hear much from Niall on Christmas Eve, which Harry knows is being spent with Alma’s family, and he doesn’t hear much from him for most of Christmas Day, which he also knows he and the kids are spending with Niall’s family who they drove two hours to see. It doesn’t stop him from checking his phone every two minutes. 

Finally, Harry has put thoughts of Niall to rest, and after dinner, he’s entertaining some of Mark’s nieces and nephews in the living room when he’s surprised by his phone vibrating in his back pocket. Embarrassingly enough, as soon as Harry sees Niall’s name on the screen, he bolts upright and books it to the blessedly empty guest bedroom. 

“Hey,” Harry breathes, hoping he sounds more casual than he feels.

“I could kill you,” is the first thing Niall says, but Harry can’t detect genuine anger in his voice, so he smiles.

“You don’t like your presents?” Harry asks, faking worry. “Shucks.”

“You’re such a dick, Harry,” Niall laughs. “God, it was my fault; I should’ve known by the size of those boxes. I’m such an idiot.”

“So did they—”

“Oh my God, of course they liked their presents, idiot!” Niall practically yells, and Harry has to pull the phone away from his ear for a second. “I had to practically pay Annie to wait until we got home to assemble the dollhouse, and the twins almost got pneumonia from swinging from the damn horse swing all day in my dad’s backyard. I hate you.”

“Well,” Harry starts, but is interrupted again by Niall’s continuous rambling. 

“And I Googled the damn things, and really, Harry? I can’t believe you would spend so much money on some presents!”

“Well, you know, money isn’t real, Niall,” Harry mumbles.

“Maybe not to you, you trust fund baby,” Niall snaps. “Sorry, that was mean.”

“You should call me ‘baby’ more often,” Harry says, grinning. “Did they really like their gifts?”

“Yes, oh my God,” Niall says, disbelief at Harry’s lack of tact. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“What about your present?” Harry asks, nonchalant. “Did you like it?”

“I haven’t opened it yet,” Niall sighs. “I was so angry I had to cool down and then I realized I’d left it back home.”

“Now who’s ridiculous,” Harry laughs, running a hand through his hair. 

“Well, did you open yours?” Niall counters, indignant. 

“Actually,” Harry mumbles and gets on his knees to dig under the bed. “I haven’t had a chance to, so…”

“Oh, God,” Niall groans just as Harry pulls out a box the length of his forearm and the width of his phone. “I’m hanging up now.” 

“Hey, now wait a minute,” Harry settles on the hardwood floor and sticks his phone between his ear and his shoulder. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

Harry ignores the grumbling coming from the Niall’s side of the phone in favor of carefully ripping open the wrapping paper. It’s blue with white snowflakes all over, and it’s so neatly wrapped that Harry almost feels bad about messing it up. He’s about to tell Niall as much when he pries the box open and sees what’s inside.

“Oh, Niall,” Harry whispers, pulling out a beautifully patterned, black and green scarf. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Now who’s being cliché?” Niall grumbles. 

“This is so,” Harry runs a careful hand through the material of the scarf. “It’s so pretty.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it, of course,” Harry assures him, extending the scarf so he can look at the pattern more closely. “This is one of the nicest things I’ve ever gotten.”

“That’s good,” Niall breathes. “I was gonna buy you one of those colorful shirts you like, but I don’t know your size, and once I was taking a walk during my lunch break and I walked into this vintage store and I saw this and I just—I know you don’t really wear—”

“Niall,” Harry can’t help the grin that’s formed on his face. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, um,” Niall clears his throat. “You’re welcome.”

~

Harry doesn’t know when Niall is supposed to get back from visiting his family, and something stops him from asking Niall during their ongoing text conversation. It’s three days after Christmas, and Harry’s family is gone, but surprisingly enough Harry has been able to stay busy.

Currently, he’s distracted by his reflection on the bathroom mirror and the huge zit on his chin. He’s supposed to go to a friend’s New Year’s Eve party in a few days, but he’s considering using this zit as an excuse not to go. 

When Harry steps back into the living room, he only gets a chance to get comfortable on the couch when the doorbell rings. With a groan, he gets up to drag himself to the door. He’s got a bit of a pout on until he opens the door and sees Niall shuffling from foot to foot to keep warm.

“Hey,” Harry says, and he probably looks as surprised as he feels, because Niall shoots him a tight smile and shoves his hands in his coat pockets.

“Hi,” Niall mumbles against his scarf. His cheeks are so red. “I just opened your Christmas present.”

Harry’s heart drops to his knees.

“Oh, Niall, come in,” Harry moves aside to let Niall come inside. Harry moves to take Niall’s coat and guides him to the kitchen, where he digs through the cupboards for the kettle. “You know it’s December 28, right?” he jokes, totally avoiding Niall’s eyes.

“We just got back,” Niall continues once he’s sitting in the kitchen table. “I dropped the twins off with Alma since I have work tomorrow. I hope I’m not bothering you guys.”

“It’s all right, Niall,” Harry says, filling the kettle with water. “I think Mark and Gems are asleep.”

“It’s really late, isn’t it?” Niall mumbles, and when Harry turns, he sees Niall picking at his thumbnail. “Sorry.”

Harry’s heart clenches at the sight of Niall biting his nails to the quick, so as soon as he puts the kettle on the stove, he sits down across from him on the kitchen table and reaches across the table to hold his hand down so he’ll stop.

“I take it you didn’t like my gift?” Harry jokes, but his voice is flat so it doesn’t really land.

“What?” Niall snaps, looking at Harry like he’s crazy, but not pulling his hand away. “Don’t be stupid.”

The lump in Harry’s throat dissolves, and he has to laugh at Niall’s annoyance. “You almost made me think I’d mortally offended you, Niall.”

“I’m not very good at expressing my feelings,” Niall dryly. “I don’t know if that was clear.”

“A ‘thank you’ will do, Niall,” Harry laughs, running a thumb down Niall’s knuckles. “It’s really not that complicated.”

“But it is!” Niall bursts, pulling his hand away from Harry’s and running his hands through his hair. “You noticed that my daughter is the most organized five-year-old in the world so you bought her an architecturally beautiful dollhouse made of recycled materials, you noticed that my son is obsessed with animals so you bought him a horse-shaped tire swing, and you know I love the Eagles so you bought me a vintage Eagles t shirt. It’s like you were flung out of space just to make me happy.”

Harry opens his mouth to say something—anything—when the kettle starts whistling. 

“Jesus Christ,” Niall lets out a shaky breath, and Harry gets up to rush and turn off the stove. “Jesus freaking Christ.”

“Niall,” Harry starts, but Niall quickly interrupts him. “Harry, I’m sorry. That was a super weird outburst.”

“No, I should be the one to apologize,” Harry insists, and Niall’s face immediately drops, which makes something tighten inside Harry’s chest. Something is happening. “I think I was overcompensating.”

“Right,” Niall nods, looking down at the table and avoiding Harry’s eyes. “I understand.”

“It’s just,” Harry swallows, the vice squeezing his heart tightens, and he decides that he wants to be brave, because the look on Niall’s face is one of the worst things Harry has ever seen. “I’ve never liked someone as much as I like you.”

“Harry, I—” Niall starts, and Harry braces himself against the kitchen counter, afraid that his knees will give in. “What?”

“Don’t you know?” Harry asks, quiet, afraid he’ll spook Niall into running away. “You must know.”

Niall takes a long breath in, and Harry braces himself for disaster to strike.

A door bangs open.

“Fuck,” Harry curses, running a frustrated hand through his hair. 

“Harry!” comes Mark’s voice from down the hall, and the scared note on his voice startles Harry into action.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks, walking toward where Mark is walking Gemma slowly out of her room.

“Start the car,” Mark says, throwing him the car keys. “I’m gonna grab Gemma’s stuff, and then I’m gonna need you to drive us to the hospital.”

“But her due date isn’t until two weeks from now,” Harry says, confused.

“That’s what I told them!” Gemma yells, frowning down at her stomach. She’s got a death grip on Mark’s shoulder. “They’re early—I can’t believe they’re so early!”

“What’s going on?” Niall asks, walking out of the kitchen. 

“This little bastard just _had_ to come out today,” Gemma snaps, though her voice shakes with fear.

“Babe, it’s gonna be OK,” Mark assures her, helping her into her coat. “Harry, car. Now.”

“What hospital?” Niall asks, rushing to open the door.

“Longview Regional,” Mark calls out as he leads Gemma out the door. “You think Al’s on call tonight?”

“I don’t know,” Niall says, pushing Harry’s coat into his arms. “If she is, she won’t answer her phone, so I can ask around as soon as we get there.”

“Hey,” Harry grabs Niall’s arm before he can follow Gemma and Mark out the door. “You don’t have to come with us.”

“I know,” Niall says, and he holds Harry’s gaze for a moment before he’s rushing out the door. “Come on.”

Harry follows Niall out the door.

~

Harry’s on the phone with his mom when Niall walks up to him with two cups of coffee and a sympathetic smile. 

“Yeah, you can come straight to the hospital if you want, and I’ll just drop off your stuff at her place,” Harry informs his mom and promises her that he’ll call if anything else happens. Gemma isn’t very far dilated, so it’ll at least be a couple hours before she goes into labor, so his mom should have enough time to get to the hospital. Or that’s what he hopes. Nothing is going according to plan today.

They say goodbye to each other, and Harry hangs up and takes the coffee from Niall’s hand. He’s so tired.

“Your mom on her way?” Niall asks, and Harry closes his eyes, but he feels the comforting warmth of Niall’s body. 

“I had to call her five times before she woke up,” Harry tells him, and he opens his eyes to look at Niall. His hair is a little mussed, and Harry basks in his softness. “I felt bad about waking them up, but she would have killed me if I hadn’t called her.”

“Baby’s a bit ahead of schedule, hmm?” Niall mumbles, and Harry snorts out a laugh. “A bit,” he mumbles back.

“The twins were premature,” Niall says, and that makes Harry’s heart jump to his throat. “By a month. It was scary, you know, but it turned out fine in the end.”

“Oh, Niall,” Harry can’t help it when he shuffles closer to Niall. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Niall scoffs. He hooks a pinky around Harry’s. “You didn’t do anything. You didn’t even know me back then.”

“I wish I did,” Harry mumbles, and it occurs to him that this is not an appropriate time to be doing this, not when his sister is about to give birth down the hall, and not after the conversation they were having in the kitchen got so rudely interrupted. 

They haven’t had time to pick up on where they had left off earlier, but from the way Niall is leaning comfortably against Harry, it doesn’t seem to have gone as disastrously as Harry had feared. 

“Hey about earlier—” Harry starts, but he stops himself when he gets distracted by the way Niall’s ears immediately start reddening. “Are we...all right?”

“Um,” Niall looks down at his scuffed up sneakers. Stan Smiths, dirty and worn, and low-key stylish in that trademark way Niall has. “Everything happened kind of quickly.”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, trying to nod away the disappointment that’s growing in his body. “Yeah, you’re right, it’s been a hectic night, hasn’t it?”

“It has,” Niall says, and when he looks up, he’s smiling, and Harry can’t help but mirror his grin. “It’s quite exciting, isn’t it?”

“Quite,” Harry laughs, and he opens his mouth to say something stupid but cute when his eyes drift to the left of Niall’s head. “Is that Alma?”

Niall frowns and turns around to look. “Yeah, I guess she is on call tonight,” Niall mumbles, and takes a step to walk up to her when a tall brunette man in blue scrubs walks up to her and engages her in a conversation.

“Well that’s one tall drink of water,” Harry jokes, but when he looks over at Niall to commiserate, his eyebrows are scrunched up together. Then, when he looks back toward Alma, the man leans down to her and she stands on her tiptoes to give him a peck on the lips.

It’s a short and sweet kiss, tinged by an obvious familiarity between them both. Soon enough they’re walking on opposite directions down the hallway and they’re out of sight. When Harry looks back to Niall to ask him about the guy, Niall is frozen in place, his eyes cast downward to look at the linoleum. 

“Niall?” Harry starts, and Niall flinches and looks back at Harry. Harry can’t quite decipher what’s just happened, but Niall looks a little uncomfortable. “I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”

“Neither did I,” Niall bites out, and suddenly he’s all movement again. “I’m gonna go see if Mark needs anything. Gemma probably needs those ice chips, right? I’m gonna go get her some ice chips.”

“Don’t you wanna say hi to Alma?” Harry asks after Niall, who is already halfway down the hall.

Niall just waves him off and he disappears. Harry feels like he’s missing something.

~

Harry’s mother gets there just in time.

He doesn’t get to be inside the delivery room himself; instead he waits in the waiting room with Robin and Mark’s parents. 

Niall’s gone to work, and with all the tension weighing him down, he can’t help but miss him. He hadn’t been quite as easygoing after they’d seen Alma and her apparently new boyfriend, but Niall’s got a quality about him that helps diffuse the tension in most rooms. 

“Does anyone need anything?” Harry asks the group in general, and they answer with a chorus of negatives. He’s about to head out in search of a vending machine when Mark comes running into the waiting room. 

It’s a boy.

~

Harry spends his New Year’s Eve watching Gemma and their entire family coo over baby Lucas, the loudest creature Harry has ever encountered in his entire life. 

He texts Niall intermittently throughout the days after the birth, but he gets short and vague answers in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she really did that
> 
> (yell @ me on my [tumb](http://www.mpregfan1994.tumblr.com)
> 
> \+ [ this is the song ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aJn3QJYYBr0) niall sings 2 the twins but you know acoustic guitar)


	5. before i make a move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey look just a few weeks later kthanksbye

Baby Lucas is a handful.

Family members come in and out of Gemma’s house to do whatever they can to help, and Harry’s mom spends most nights at theirs, helping however she can. Lucas won’t stop crying, his face red and scrunched up in what Harry imagines can only be excruciating pain but his mom tells him is just him being a baby. 

Harry tries to stay out of the way for the most part, running errands so Mark and Gemma and everyone else can focus on taking care of the baby. He’s too busy to visit Niall and the kids, but he decidedly has not stopped communicating with Niall. The last time he’d seen him was at the hospital, and that had ended in a frustratingly awkward way, but Harry took a leap, damn it, and he refuses to back down from whatever they were tripping toward before everything happened. 

In the end, it’s Niall who seeks him out. When Harry walks into the living room that Wednesday afternoon and finds the kids ogling baby Lucas in Gemma’s arms, he can’t help how his heart jumps a little when he spots Niall talking to Mark next to her. 

“The twins wanted to see the baby,” Niall explains, jumping up from his spot on the couch. “And they had something to say to you.”

“Harry!” Robbie jumps from is perch on the couch next to Gemma. “Thank you _so_ much for my horse! I ride it _every_ day.”

“Oh, that’s so good to hear, buddy,” Harry crouches down to envelop little Robbie in a hug. “Did you have a good Christmas?”

“Yes!” Robbie says, bouncing up and down where he stands. “I ate _so_ much, Harry, I almost _threw up_.”

“That wasn’t as fun as you think it was, darlin’,” Niall says dryly.

“But the food was so _good_ ,” Robbie counters just as Annie reaches their little party. “I ate this many tamales!”

“I ate _this_ many,” Annie gestures so her arms are farther apart than Robbie’s. “I ate a _hundred_.”

“That’s too many,” Harry suggests, which makes Annie frown and stomp a foot on the ground. “Nuh uh.”

“Don’t you have something to say to Harry, Ana?” Niall goads, raising an eyebrow at his daughter.

“Oh, yeah, thank your for my dollhouse!” Annie says and steps to give Harry a kiss on the cheek. “Iron Man really likes to sleep in it and Minnie Mouse too.”

“That’s super cool to hear,” Harry says, ruffling Annie’s hair. “I’m really happy that you guys liked your gifts.”

“Harry, do you wanna come ride my horse?” Robbie asks, suddenly becoming really excited again. “It’s _so_ fun.”

“I would love to,” Harry enthuses, standing back up. “Maybe later, though, I’m kind of busy around here.”

“But we haven’t played in _forever_ ,” Annie argues, pulling at Harry’s hand. “You gotta see all the presents we got!”

“Please please _please_ ,” Robbie begs, bouncing on his toes. “ _Pleeeeeaaaaase_ …” Soon enough Annie joins and they beg in unison.

“You can go ahead if you want, Harry,” Gemma calls from her spot on the couch. “I think we’re doing OK for now.”

“Well in that case,” Harry shoots a smile at Niall, who, worryingly enough, has his thumb in his mouth, probably chewing through the skin. “It’s a bit late, isn’t it?”

“Time to go, littles.” Niall nods, leading the twins toward the foyer. 

Gemma and Mark bid them pleasant and casual goodbyes and then get back to looking lovingly at their son, but Harry follows Niall and the kids to the foyer. “Were we little like that, Papi?” Harry hears Robbie ask as he approaches them. 

“You two were even littler,” Niall informs them, pulling his coat on. Harry quietly leans against the wall and watches the little ones pull on their matching puffy yellow coats. “Believe it or not, you two were the size of peas at one point.”

“Nuh uh,” Annie looks up at Niall in disbelief, her scarf landing on the floor where she’s holding it limply in her hand. “You’re lying!”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, puppet,” Niall grins down at her, and when he looks back up he spots Harry and shoots him a short grin. “Hey, what’s going on? Haven’t seen you in a minute.”

“Harry!” the twins echo and shuffle toward him as if they hadn’t seen him earlier. They go on to ask him questions about where he was and tell him about what they’ve been doing and how little baby Lucas is. 

“Papi says we were the little like peas, but he’s lying,” Annie tells him. “Nobody can be that little.”

“Your dad’s pretty smart,” Harry says, shooting a quick glance at Niall. “I’d listen to him if I were you.”

Annie doesn’t seem to hear him, when she lifts her arms and gestures for Harry to pick her up. “Ana María,” Niall warns, but Harry picks her up anyway and holds her against his hip. “An enabler, you are,” Niall grumbles, and picks Robbie up. 

“I’ll be back in a few!” Harry calls out as they head out the door. 

“You’re a loon, you know,” Niall informs him as they start walking in the direction to Niall’s house. “Come home just to get taken right out.”

“This is kind of our routine now, isn’t it?” Harry mumbles, smiling a little at Annie quietly tugging at his necklaces. “Can’t break with tradition now.” Niall smiles gently at Harry before shifting Robbie on his hip and turning his attention back to his son.

“My _ita_ has a necklace like this,” Annie tells Harry, showing him his own cross necklace.

“Your what, pet?” Harry mumbles against her hair. “My _ita_ ,” Annie insists, and Harry still has absolutely no idea what she’s talking about, but she turns to have a conversation with her brother until they’re rounding the block to the house. “I’m quite boring, aren’t I?” 

“Yeah, quite,” Niall agrees, pushing the door open. Harry knocks his boot against Niall’s calf, and Niall kicks him right back without turning around from his path toward the kids’ room. “Don’t you drop my baby,” Niall warns. “You and your spaghetti legs are more dangerous than anything I’ve ever encountered, honestly.”

“Look who’s talking, twiggy,” Harry shoots back, careful to step carefully anyway. “I could break your legs with little to no effort.”

“Harry!” Robbie gasps. “Don’t break my papi’s legs!”

“I could beat him in a fight,” Niall assures him, stepping into the twins’ room. He gently places Robbie on his bed, and Harry follows suit with Annie. Niall shuffles back to the children’s drawer to look for some clothes and pulls out a set of gorilla-print long-sleeved pajamas and a similar one but with little pizzas all over them. The kids are bouncing up and down on their beds the entire time. 

“Papi, I don’t wanna _sleep_ ,” Annie whines, throwing herself on her bed. “I’m not _tired_.”

“It’s really late, darlin’,” Niall says, running a hand through her hair. “And you have school in the morning. Now go brush your teeth, both of you.”

The twins let out identical long-suffering sighs, but they get up and head for the direction of the bathroom anyway. 

“Hey,” Niall turns his attention to Harry. “I’m gonna change them—if you wanna go make yourself some tea or something…”

“Oh, um,” Harry frowns and thinks about how he doesn’t know how to be alone with Niall anymore, but Niall looks at him from down where he’s sitting on Annie’s bed with those big blue eyes, and Harry doesn’t know what else to do besides nod and walk to the kitchen.

Harry is just pouring the hot water into two mugs when he hears some shuffling, and when he glances back, he sees that Niall has changed into sweats. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Niall sighs. “How’s things? How are you guys holding up?”

“We’re fine,” Harry sighs, turning to hand Niall his mug. “He’s loud, but whatever. I don’t wanna talk about babies, if that’s all right with you.”

“OK,” Niall nods. “We don’t have to talk about babies.”

“Right,” Harry nods. “So do you wanna talk about what happened the night Lucas was born?”

“Not particularly,” Niall admits, and Harry can’t help but let out a short laugh. “You wanna ignore it until it becomes unbearably awkward and play some golf instead?”

Twenty minutes later, they’re engaged in a very competitive game of Wii golf. Harry lets himself stare at the way Niall handles the Wii control, body perfectly poised, as if he was playing for real.

“We should go golfing sometime,” Harry says, pulling the blanket over his body. “Like, for real.”

“Too bad that it’s too cold right now, huh?” Niall comments idly, eyes not leaving the screen. “My favorite thing to do. Al and I used to take the kids to putt putt when they started walkin’.”

“Were they good?” Harry asks, setting his mug down on the coffee table. 

“Not really,” Niall laughs. “But it wasn’t about that, you know.”

“Hey,” Harry mumbles, sitting up, because the way Niall turns away from the game to run a hand roughly through his hair is making him weary. He hadn’t been naïve enough to think ignoring all the events from that night at the hospital had been working, and Niall had been a coil that was tightening and tightening throughout the night. Harry had been bracing himself for the release.

“God damn it,” Niall mumbles suddenly, and throws his controller roughly onto the coffee table. “Sorry it’s been a long week.”

“I know we said we wouldn’t but—” Harry starts, gently.

“What’s wrong with me?” Niall asks, finally turning to look at Harry. He looks so wrecked, and Harry’s heart clenches in his chest. Niall takes a deep and shaky breath in. “I’m 28 years old, I’m not supposed to be a divorcee.” 

Harry bites his bottom lip, stopping himself from saying anything. What Niall needs right now is some time to vent, and Harry wants to give that to him.

“I thought she just realized that love wasn’t for her. That’s what she _told me_. She was like ‘Niall, I just don’t think I believe in it for me. I don’t want you to be stuck with someone who can’t love you back.’ And you know, I went with it, because I knew she would resent me if I forced her to stay with me, and the kids would feel it. I know what it’s like to see two parents start to resent each other, and it fucked me up.”

Again, Niall runs a hand roughly through his hair and starts pacing in front of the coffee table. 

“But it wasn’t that she couldn’t be in love with anyone. She just couldn’t be in love with _me_.” Niall lets out an exhausted breath, tired from his rant, and sits down roughly next to Harry. “She didn’t want me.”

“She didn’t leave _you_ , Niall,” Harry counters, holding Niall’s hands down so he’ll stop. “She just left.”

“I was a bit of an instigating factor, Harry,” Niall snorts. “She might have had one foot out the door but I pushed her out. I’m controlling and closed off and hard to be around.” Niall lists all his faults in his fingers, breath catching on every new thing. “I would leave me too.”

“Well, I’d like to respectfully disagree,” Harry insists, grabbing Niall’s hands. “I think she made a ridiculous mistake by letting you go.”

“Don’t say that,” Niall mumbles, looking down at their interlocked hands. “God and now I sound like a self-pitying jerk.”

“Hey,” Harry lets go of Niall’s hands to run his hands soothingly on Niall’s arms. “You’re allowed to feel a little low sometimes.” 

“Why are you so good to me?” Niall asks, looking at Harry straight on. “I mean, I _know_ why, sort of, but…am I worth all this trouble?”

Harry doesn’t have to think twice before he replies with a soft but sure, “You are.”  
Niall doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t stand up or pull away or make a move to kick Harry out, so Harry makes a split-second decision and brings Niall’s hand up to his lip to press a quick kiss to his knuckles. Niall takes a sharp breath in, but doesn’t pull his hand away, so Harry presses a few more kisses to Niall’s knuckles in quick succession. 

Harry can hear his heart pounding rapidly in his chest, can feel the blood rushing to his face, and the sweat forming on his palms, and when he looks up to meet Niall’s eyes, he can feel his breath cut short in his throat. Niall doesn’t move, but Harry can’t help but lean in to kiss the top of Niall’s cheekbone, then the bridge of his nose, then the outer corner of his eyebrow, then finally the corner of his mouth.

“Niall,” Harry finally whispers when he pulls back. “Kiss me, please.”

And, finally, Niall does.

The press of Niall’s lips on Harry’s is soft and tentative at first, a ghost of a touch that awakes every nerve ending of Harry’s body. It’s a culmination of days and weeks and months of cooking together and looking up at the stars, of growing more familiar with the exact blue of Niall’s eyes, of feeling Niall’s warmth without being allowed to touch. It takes Harry’s last ounce of willpower not to shove his tongue down Niall’s throat. Slowly, Niall opens his mouth, and Harry takes this as a chance to grab Niall’s face in his hands and deepen the kiss almost immediately. Harry has a moment to panic before Niall brings his hands forward to grab at Harry’s sweater. 

In a moment, their kiss changes from a tame a fragile thing to a heated and passionate kiss that Harry could not have imagined even if he had tried. Truthfully, Harry thinks he could just stay like this, making out with Niall on the couch, and he doesn’t expect anything but that, so he’s totally taken aback when Niall pulls back momentarily only to start trailing kisses up Harry’s neck.

Soon enough, Harry’s moving his hands from Niall’s face and down to his lower back. Niall shudders as soon as Harry starts running his hands under his sweatshirt, and Harry thinks that he could be the first person to die from kissing. 

“Niall…” Harry moans into Niall’s mouth, and Niall lets out a low groan that makes Harry accidentally scratch at his back. “Sorry,” Harry mumbles, but Niall only responds by telling him to shut up and pulling him so they’re lying on the couch. 

Harry runs his hand up Niall’s ribcage, and the ridges of his bones under Harry’s fingers make him shudder. “Jesus Christ,” Niall mumbles against Harry’s lips, and Harry can’t help but verbally agree. Niall’s verbal response makes Harry feel a little braver, so he runs his hand down Niall’s torso and toward the hem of his sweatshirt.

Niall’s breath hitches when Harry begins running his left hand up his stomach underneath his sweatshirt. He doesn’t pull away, so Harry keeps trailing his fingers over the trail of fine hair that runs up Niall’s stomach. It’s a sensory overload, and Harry doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to do this before he expires.

“Niall—” Harry mumbles against Niall’s lips. “Niall, you gotta—” And Niall doesn’t have to be told twice, because soon enough his lips move from Harry’s and down to the dip between his clavicles. Harry can’t help the low whine that falls out of his mouth, and he can feel his face heat in embarrassment, but Niall doesn’t seem to care. In fact, it only seems to spur Niall on to running his hands under Harry’s own sweater. 

That spurs Harry into action, and he tugs at the hem of Niall’s sweatshirt, so he can finally get the damn thing off. Niall gets the message, and soon enough he pulls back from where he seems to be biting at Harry’s clavicle in order to pull his sweatshirt and throw it somewhere Harry doesn't’ really care. Unfortunately, Niall’s still got a long-sleeve t-shirt on, his skin frustratingly covered in cotton.

“Oh, come on,” Harry groans, falling back from where he’d propped himself up on his elbows. “You’re killin’ me, Smalls.”

“You’re so impatient,” Niall mumbles, and reaches for the hem of his t-shirt, and Harry braces himself for whatever comes next when Niall lowers his arms and frowns down at Harry’s lap. “Shit.”

“Uh,” Harry says intelligently. “Is there a…problem?”

“No,” Niall says, then backpedals. “Yes—no, not really, just…I’m in a weird place right now—ugh, I hate the way that sounds, but I don’t wanna wake up tomorrow and regret anything that happened tonight.”

“Right,” Harry, as eloquent as ever, says. “Niall, you’re gonna have to get off me so I can run away in shame.”

Niall doesn’t climb off of Harry, and instead groans and buries his face on Harry’s chest. “None of this is happening the way I had hoped.”

“Hey,” Harry mumbles, running his hands up Niall’s arms. “What do you want to do right now?”

Niall does not reply immediately, and instead opts to lie down on top of Harry and wrap his arms around his waist, which honestly outweighs the disappointment Harry had been feeling just a minute before. “What I really want to do right now is drag you back to my bedroom and maybe make out a little bit more until I fall asleep on top of you.”

“Well,” Harry mumbles against the crown of Niall’s head. “That sounds good to me.”

“But what’s gonna happen,” Niall laughs at the way Harry groans. “Is that you’re gonna go home, and I’m gonna try to sleep alone in my big and empty bed, and we’re gonna see how we feel about this in a few days.”

“A few days?” Harry pouts down at Niall, who finally lifts his head up to meet his eyes. 

“You can go a few days,” Niall laughs, running a hand up Harry’s belly. “Hey, come on. I just want to be sure. Are you OK with that?” 

“Hmm,” Harry runs a hand through Niall’s hair, and he doesn’t have to give his response much thought. “Just give me ten more minutes of cuddle time, yeah?”

~

It’s pretty hard, staying away from Niall, but Harry is really busy, so thankfully he doesn’t have much time to dwell on Niall.

Except when he does. It’s just that Harry can’t get the way Niall’s body felt out of his mind. He can’t stop thinking about the little sounds Niall made every time Harry scratched at his belly. When he lies down at night, right before he goes to sleep, he can’t help his mind from drifting to the way Niall’s lips felt against his own.

So he doesn’t go over to Niall’s house the next day, and the day after that, Harry gets a notification on his phone reminding him that he has to fly out to Vermont for a candle-making convention that Friday.

“Hey,” Niall says when he answers his phone. “Um, what’s up?”

“So, I have some bad news,” Harry starts, and Niall immediately starts laughing. 

“Oh, you’ve changed your mind,” Niall jokes. “I suppose I should have seen this coming.”

“Oh, be quiet, Niall,” Harry orders, genuinely affronted by Niall’s foolishness. “No, I haven’t changed my mind, and in fact I was going to wait for you to call, but unfortunately—and this is the bad news, Niall—I have to fly out to Vermont tomorrow at noon for work.”

“Oh,” Niall says, and Harry runs a hand over his duvet while he waits for Niall to continue. “Well that…sucks.”

“I know,” Harry sighs, frown forming on his face. “But hey, I’ll be back on Sunday night. Maybe I can come over.”

“That sounds good,” Niall mumbles. “I’m gonna put the kids to bed, yeah? I’ll talk to you later.”

“I’ll text you,” Harry says before they exchange goodbyes. 

He does text, so throughout the weekend there’s nothing like radio silence between them, but Harry is so busy that he can’t really send too many messages that aren’t just monosyllabic answers or photos of the more intense candle-makers he’s come across.

He’s excited to get to see Niall on Sunday, but his flight is delayed a few hours, and by the time he gets off the plane, it’s nearly one in the morning. He checks his phone while he’s waiting for his cab to pick him up, and, much to his dismay, he finds a good night text from Niall. When the taxi drops him off at Gemma’s, Harry is exhausted and thoroughly disappointed. He doesn’t expect the total silence that greets him or the sight of Gemma and Mark sitting contentedly on the couch, watching a re-run of Friends as Mark cradles baby Lucas in his arms. 

“What’d I miss?” Harry asks, dumping his bags by the hallway. 

“We have the best baby in the world,” Gemma informs him, burying herself more comfortably into the couch. “He only cries when he’s hungry or if he needs a diaper change now. Most of the time, he’s just like this.”

“Might not need you for much longer, bro,” Mark mumbles, offhanded and not really focused on anything but the sleeping baby in his arms. “Might be able to get rid of you soon.” Gemma slaps him in the arm for that and assures Harry that he hadn’t meant that, and maybe she’s right, but Harry can’t shake the feeling that his days here are numbered anyway.

~

He has to get his piece written by the end of the day on Monday, so he doesn’t get a chance to call Niall about meeting up. They exchange some texts, but Harry doesn’t get to give Niall his full attention until the next morning. Of course, Niall has work, and they don’t get a chance to really talk until that night, when Harry gathers up the nerve to walk to their house.

“It’s late,” Niall says when he opens the door, but there’s a smile on his face.

“Why, yes Niall, I would love to come in,” Harry replies, leaning against the doorjamb. “Oh, what’s that? Oh, I’ll have some tea if you’re already making it. Oh, yes, it is a bit chilly outside, it is January after all.”

Niall just rolls his eyes and leaves the door wide open for Harry to follow him inside. 

“Hey, are you eating sugar right now?” Niall asks, running a hand under his sweatshirt to scratch as his belly. “The kids’ grandma gave me some buñuelos to take home, and they’re really good with hot chocolate, but you were on that sugarless diet a few weeks ago?”

“You remember that?” Harry asks, taking his coat off and dumping it unceremoniously on the couch. He’d done that sugarless thing for about two days about a month ago, and he’d only really whined about it to Niall through text about once. It shouldn’t be surprising, though, Niall remembers everything, it seems. 

“You remember that?” Harry asks, following Niall into the kitchen. He’d done that sugarless thing for about two days about a month ago, and he’d only really whined about it to Niall through text about once. It shouldn’t be surprising, though, Niall remembers everything, it seems. 

“Yeah, ‘course,” Niall shoots him a short grin as he takes out some stuff from the cupboard. “It was ridiculous, wasn’t it?”

Belatedly, Harry notices Niall is wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt. He’s somewhat disappointed it’s not the UC Santa Barbara sweatshirt he was wearing the night they kissed for the first time, but he looks cozy, so Harry wraps his arms around Niall where he’s pouring milk into a pan. 

“It was a good idea at the time,” Harry mumbles against Niall’s neck. “You smell nice.” 

Niall only snorts in response, but he turns around to wrap his own arms around Harry’s neck.

They spend about half an hour talking about the last few weeks—the kids going back to school, baby Lucas and everything that goes along with taking care of him, and random asides about whatever. They don’t talk about the kiss, and Harry is surprisingly fine with catching up with Niall without any expectations. 

“I’m glad we could do this,” Harry says, buttoning his coat as Niall walks him to the front door. “I was worried you wouldn't call, you know?”

“Uh, yeah,” Niall looks down at his socked feet, and Harry’s grin widens in fondness when he notices Niall start to fiddle with the hem of his sweatshirt. “I needed some time, you know?”

“I understand,” Harry smiles, leaning against the door. “So…make any fascinating conclusions?”

“Well,” Niall takes a deep breath, as well as step forward so they stand nose to nose. “I’ve looked at the available evidence, and I’ve come to the conclusion that,” Niall’s smile widens, “I think I like you.”

“You _think_?” Harry says, indignant. “That does not sound concrete to me.”

“Well, I’m still looking through some variables,” Niall says, smile turning just a bit smug. “Still need to do a bit more research.”

“Research, hmm?” Harry lets his eyes look down at Niall’s lips for a split second before returning to Niall’s own eyes. “What kind of research?”

Niall just rolls his eyes and lets out a derisive snort, but he finally leans for a kiss.

It’s heaven, after days of seeing Niall’s kiss-bitten lips whenever he closed his eyes. His lips are soft and his tongue is sweet with the taste of hot chocolate and sugar. This kiss, it’s delicious, and Harry can’t help it when he grabs Niall’s face with one hand and pulls his hips flush against his own with his other one. His hand is starting to rub circles against Niall’s hip when Niall abruptly pulls away.

“Hey,” Niall laughs softly, running soothing hands down Harry’s front. “It’s late.”

Harry lets out a disappointed sigh, pulling Niall into a hug; he’s not quite ready to stop touching him just yet. “It’s late,” he agrees.

Much to Harry’s disappointment, Niall pulls back and adds some space between them. “I’ll see you…?”

“Oh, you’ll be seeing me tomorrow,” Harry assures him, opening the door behind himself. “Whether you like it or not.”

“Good night, Harry,” Niall says, smiling, and Harry has to force himself to walk out the door before he nails himself to the floor.

It’s freezing out, and there is no reason Harry should just be standing at the Horans’ porch like a lunatic with the brisk winter air hitting his cheeks. But he doesn’t want to go home, and he can’t bring himself to even take one step away from the front door. 

He raps quickly at the door.

The door immediately opens, and there’s Niall, his hair a bit disheveled and his neck a deep shade of pink. “Hi,” he breathes. “Did you forget something?” His right hand is holding tightly onto the wood of the door, and there’s a smile threatening to break out on his face. 

“Yeah,” Harry mumbles before he takes a step, cups Niall’s face in his hands and crashes his lips with Niall’s. 

“No, wait,” Niall pushes Harry back, but keeps a tight grip on the bottom of his t-shirt. “We can’t—the kids.”

“They’re asleep.” Harry says, running his hands down from Niall’s face to his forearms. “I’ll be real quiet.”

“You’ve never been quiet in your life,” Niall laughs, but he lets Harry kiss him again anyway. “Stop, you’re wearing down my resolve.”

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” Harry mumbles against Niall’s neck. “I’m just over not spending as much time with you as humanly possible.”

“You’re so corny,” Niall says when he pulls back, but he wraps his arms around Harry’s shoulders and goes in for another kiss.

Harry still can’t help how his hands quickly run down from Niall’s face and down to his back, where he runs his hands down to Niall’s hips. Harry pulls Niall flush against his body, as if making up for the week they had apart. On his part, Niall’s got a death grip on Harry’s shoulders, and, Harry starts to notice, is starting to lead them away from the door. Harry takes one second to pull his hand away from Niall’s hip to close the door gently behind him. 

Niall pulls his hands down from Harry’s shoulders to grab at the hem of Harry’s shirt, pulling him toward the direction of his bedroom. They’re walking through the hallway past the kids’ room when Harry accidentally trips on his own feet and nearly sends them sprawling onto the hardwood floor. Before anything can go disastrously, though, Harry regains his balance and holds Niall up by his hips. 

Niall muffles a laugh against his shoulder. “Christ, you’re gonna kill us,” Niall mumbles against Harry’s neck. 

“I suppose it was too much to ask for this to go smoothly,” Harry pulls Niall’s hips flush against his body, and he can feel Niall running his own hands up Harry’s back under his shirt. “No one’s dead yet.”

“Well, if you don’t hurry up, we might die before we get to my room,” Niall starts scratching down Harry’s back, and Harry doesn’t know what comes over him when his hands run down to Niall’s butt and he lifts him up. Reflexively, Niall hooks his ankles to hang onto Harry, but he lightly punches his arm. “You’re the corniest person I have ever met.”

“You love that about me,” Harry mumbles before going in for another kiss.

When they get to the bed, Harry dumps Niall’s body unceremoniously on the mattress, and Niall bounces up a little, finally letting out a full on laugh.

“Well, shush,” Harry mumbles, running his nose down Niall’s cheek from where he’s perched on top of Niall at the end of the bed. “You’ll wake the kids.” 

“I hate you,” Niall huffs between laughs. Harry pulls back from Niall, who doesn’t let him go too far before he kisses his cheek. “Now go close the door, pet.”

Harry internally preens at the pet name, but he gets up soundlessly and goes to gently push the door closed. When he turns around, he leans against the closed door and takes a moment to just observe Niall. Niall, who’s shuffled a little more toward the pillows, and is observing Harry right back, propped up by his elbows, small smile playing on his lips. 

“Why are you all the way over there?” Niall asks, and Harry rolls his eyes before shuffling toward the bed. When he gets his knees on the mattress, he kicks off his boots with surprisingly little difficulty and shuffles closer until he’s bracketed between Niall’s spread knees. Harry takes one moment to run his eyes up Niall’s body before he dips down so his face is right on top of Niall’s. “Hi…” Harry mumbles before placing a chase kiss on Niall’s lips.

“Crazy,” Niall mumbles before his lips meet Harry’s for another kiss. Harry hums contentedly against Niall’s mouth, and Niall sinks more against the pillows as Harry begins to straddle his hips. They don’t stop kissing, not when Harry’s hands run down Niall’s chest, not when Niall’s fingernails scratch at the nape of Harry’s neck, not when Harry lets out a pleased little huff when Niall’s hands run down to his back pockets. 

“What do you—” Harry starts to ask but he cuts himself off when Niall pushes Harry’s crotch down against his. “Fuck.”

“Just this,” Niall mumbles against Harry’s lips, and yes, Harry is totally on board, but Niall pulls back to look up at Harry. “If that’s ok?”

“What?” Harry blinks down at Niall, confused. “Of course—don’t be silly.”

“Thanks,” Niall leans up to kiss him again, and they go on, just like that, until they eventually drift off. 

~

The marimba sound of Niall’s alarm wakes Harry up the next morning. Harry groans and burrows himself under his pillow, but he hears Niall shift on his side of the bed. He feels Niall run a hand through Harry’s shoulder blades before pushing the duvet off of himself and jumping off the bed. He hears the bedroom open and Niall’s socked feet pad through the hallway. 

Harry allows himself one full minute with his eyes closed, entire body tucked under the duvet, before he opens his eyes. He takes a deep breath in before he throws the duvet off his body and sits up.

His back only aches a little, so he gets going on his daily stretches on the hardwood floor of Niall’s bedroom. He can’t believe he’s in Niall’s bedroom, in his boxers, after spending a night with Niall’s arms around his torso. He can’t help the grin that breaks over his face as he holds his arms high above his head. 

He’s still got a goofy grin on his face when Niall walks back into the room just as Harry is trying to touch his toes with his fingers.

“Whoa there,” Niall laughs, walking toward the closet. “A bit early for that kind of business, isn’t it?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” Harry says against his knees. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Sure,” Niall calls out from where he’s probably going through his closet. Harry goes through a few more stretches while Niall picks out his clothes for the day, and when he finishes, he starts looking for his clothes.

“The kids getting ready for school?” Harry asks, pulling his jeans up. Niall hums in confirmation as he pulls his own jeans on. “Casual…Wednesday?” Niall snorts at that and throws a wink at Harry over his shoulder before pulling his t-shirt off. Harry just rolls his eyes before walking out of the room. 

Harry’s pulling his sweatshirt down when he walks by the twins’ bedroom. When he peeks his head in, Annie’s brushing her hair and Robbie is buttoning a little flannel over a thermal shirt. 

“Hey, guys,” Harry calls out softly, minding how drowsy they still look. “What do you feel like having for breakfast today?”

“Can I have oatmeal with apples, Harry?” Robbie mumbles, sleepily rubbing his fist against his eye. “Please?”

“Can I have mine with bananas, please?” Annie adds, just as sleepy.

“Coming right up!” Harry says as chirpily as he can, hoping his energy will transfer to the kids.

Twenty minutes later, he’s stirring the oatmeal on the stove, banana and apple cubed on the counter; Niall walks in with the kids in tow. “Well, what’ve we got here?” Niall announces, walking up to Harry and hooking his chin on his shoulder. “Thanks, babe,” Niall mumbles before placing a quick kiss on Harry’s neck. “Harry made you guys breakfast,” Niall tells the twins. “What do we say?”

“Thank you, Harry!” the twins call out, and Harry shoots them a smile over his shoulder. 

Soon enough, they’re all sitting on the table, spooning oatmeal into their mouths and making idle conversation about what they’re going to do today.

“And then if we get all the questions right, we get to have playtime,” Annie finishes.

“Finish your oatmeal, darlin’,” Niall orders gently, running a hand down her messy hair. “We gotta leave soon.”

“I’m full, _papi_ ,” Robbie announces, pushing his bowl away from him. 

“Well, go brush your teeth, then,” Niall tells him, and Robbie jumps off his seat and walks out of the kitchen. Not even a full minute later, Annie follows.

“Thanks for breakfast,” Niall smiles at Harry and places a kiss on his cheek. Harry only grins and presses his mug of coffee to his lips. Niall gets up and starts gathering the kids’ bowls, and Harry takes a second before standing up and grabbing them from Niall’s hands. “Now you go brush your teeth, mister. I’ll clean this up.”

Niall rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he snorts, and Harry scoffs, offended, and grabs the bowls forcefully from Niall’s hands and places them in the sink before grabbing Niall by his hips and pulling him close. “I’m not the one on a schedule,” Harry mumbles against Niall’s lips. At that, Niall mumbles a quiet “shit” before pushing Harry off and heading out of the kitchen. Harry chuckles to himself and gets started on the dishes. 

When he sinks his hands into the sudsy water, he can’t help the overwhelming feeling of déjà vu that overtakes him. He’s done this before—this morning routine. It’s pretty much exactly the same this morning, except last night he’d kissed Niall and Niall had kissed him back and no one was regretting it and Niall was calling him “babe.” He’s spent his fair share of mornings with people—people he’s liked, people he’s fucked, mostly either or only hardly ever both of those things. It’s never felt like this, though, Harry thinks. And they hadn’t even had sex. Harry can’t help the heat that runs through his body at the thought of the possibility of that happening in the future, though.

By the time he’s placing the bowls on the drying rack, the twins and Niall are putting their shoes on in the foyer. Harry makes his way toward them, pulling his own coat on, and smiling at them.

“We all about ready?” Harry asks the twins, who look at him and nod enthusiastically, much more awake than earlier. Harry then looks up to where Niall is looking at the exchange fondly. “Even daddy?”

“Don’t ever call me that again,” Niall says, faux-sweet smile plastered on his face. “You heading home?”

“I think I’m needed,” Harry shrugs, and runs his hand down Robbie and Annie’s hair. “I’ll see you guys later, huh?”

“OK!” the twins say chirpily before they rush outside.

“They’re going to their mom’s today,” Niall informs Harry, who opens his mouth in surprise.

“Is that so?” Harry smiles, hooking his fingers on Niall’s belt loops. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“I was gonna tell you last night,” Niall laughs, disentangling himself from Harry and stepping outside. “But, well, we got a bit distracted, didn’t we?”

“I’ll say,” Harry smiles, leaning against the wall next too the door, looking on as Niall goes about locking the door. “You got any plans tonight?”

“I might,” Niall says, to which Harry responds with an affronted gasp. “But I could be persuaded to change them.”

“I’ll persuade you all right,” Harry raises his eyebrow dramatically. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

“A real date?” Niall marvels facetiously, but turns a genuine smile toward Harry anyway. “We haven’t tried that, you know. Might go disastrously.” 

Harry shrugs. “Or it might not.”

“Or it might not,” Niall grins and spares a quick glance at the car, where the kids are buckling themselves into their booster seats before taking a step forward to peck Harry quickly on the lips. “Text me the details, and I’ll see you tonight, yeah?” 

Harry is left wanting for a deeper kiss, maybe with a little tongue, but he slaps lightly at his butt as Niall walks toward the car. “Yeah.” He hears Niall laugh quietly as he makes his way toward the car. 

Harry feels a little silly, but he can’t help it when he grins madly and waves at Niall as he drives off. He can almost hear the laugh Niall lets out as he turns the street. 

~

It’s later, when he’s untangling his hair in the restroom, that Gemma notices anything is going on. 

“You smell weird,” is the first thing she says when she steps into the bathroom. She lowers herself onto the toilet seat and doesn’t stop looking at Harry as he brushes through his hair. “Did you actually use shampoo today?”

“I use shampoo every day,” Harry pouts at his reflection. “I use shampoo every time I wash my hair,” he amends.

“Well, why are you wearing your slutty clothes?” Harry looks down at his outfit: black skinnies and his expensive Marc Jacobs chiffon button-up. He doesn’t think it’s slutty, and he tells her as much. “I can see all your nipples from here,” Gemma informs him, and she’s probably got a knowing eyebrow raised; he doesn’t have to look down at her to tell. “Who are you trying to impress, then?”

“Well, I’m going on a date,” Harry says, not looking down to meet her curious eyes. “So I suppose I’m trying to impress Niall.”

“You’re going on a date with Niall,” Gemma says, as if trying to make sense of the words that had just come out of his mouth. “How’d you manage that?”

“I’m charming,” Harry frowns at his reflection, rearranging his hair for what feels like the thousandth time.

“Charming, right,” Gemma says dryly. Harry looks away from his reflection and down at Gemma. He knows he’s got a pout on his face, and when Gemma sees it, she rolls his eyes. “Well, good for you, little brother. For a hook up, you could do a lot worse than Niall, he’s super cute.”

“This isn’t just a hook up,” Harry argues, crossing his arms over his chest. “I really like him.” He nearly stomps down with his foot, but suddenly all the fight oozes out of him, and he looks down at the tiled floor. “I really like him.”

“Oh, dummy,” Harry hears Gemma mumble as she gets up from her perch on the toilet seat to wrap herself around him. “I’m just teasing. Of course you like him—you spend all your time with him.”

“Excuse me, Gems,” he mumbles against Gemma’s hair as he wraps his own arms around her. “Not all my time.”

“Sorry,” she pulls back from him and shoots him an unimpressed look. “Would you like me to break it down in percentages?”

“That would be mighty helpful, thanks,” Harry smiles down at her and she grins. Suddenly, her face falls and her eyes widen. “Don’t tell Mark. He’s like, weirdly obsessive about Niall. He’d freak if he found out about you guys.”

“Wait, what?” Harry frowns, and Gemma just shrugs. “Mark might not like a lot of people, but he thinks Niall’s the bees knees. We’ll tell him eventually, but for now it’s probably less of a hassle to just keep it from him.” 

“You know, just one lie can break up a marriage,” Harry informs her.

“So can a double murder,” Gemma counters.

~

“Oh, now you’re just being ridiculous!”

“What?”

Harry lets out an offended scoff. “Everybody likes _Sixteen Candles_!” he nearly yells, garnering some curious stares from the dining party eating at the table next to theirs. The restaurant they’re at is cozy and intimate, an Italian joint Gemma had recommended, with delicious fresh pasta and the best garlic knots Harry’s ever eaten. Harry doesn't think he’s stopped smiling in the hour they’ve been here, and Niall’s laughing more often than not. They’re probably being really obnoxious, but he doesn’t care. 

“It’s terrible!” Niall counters, nearly spilling some red wine on the white tablecloth. The candle that’s lit in the middle of their table lights his face in an almost demonic way, but his smile is so sweet that it counters it completely. “And honestly it’s pretty racist.”

Harry opens his mouth to counter Niall’s point, but he closes it and shrugs. “You’re right. But Jake Ryan was so dreamy.”

“I was a Molly Ringwald boy myself,” Niall mumbles before drinking the last dregs of wine in his glass. “I had a redhead phase.”

“You’re making me jealous,” Harry smiles and rests his chin on his hand.

Niall rolls his eyes. “Well, I’ve moved onto brunettes.” His face quickly shifts from annoyed to endeared, and Harry can feel his own smile grow. “Do you want to share some tiramisu?”

Half an hour later, they’re walking down the street to a small art house theatre down the street when Harry stops walking, his hand still clasping Niall’s.

“What’s up?” Niall asks, looking back at Harry and tugging at his hand a little. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, just,” Harry pulls Niall forward. Niall lets out a soft laugh as Harry places his hand on Niall’s hips. “Do you really wanna see this movie?”

“You were the one who suggested it,” Niall informs him, wrapping his arms around his neck. Harry pulls him closer so his mouth is directly on Niall’s ear. Niall’s hair smells like strawberries. 

“I was trying to be traditional,” Harry explains. “But your butt is too cute to just let you walk around with pants on for a whole night.”

Niall lets out a cackle and pushes Harry off himself. “Oh my God, you’re ridiculous.”

Harry pouts. “Well, there’s no need to be rude, Niall.”

“You’re an idiot,” Niall mumbles, pulling Harry back to him. “Do you want to come home with me?”

“Well, if you’re going to _laugh_ at me—” Niall interrupts Harry’s useless and facetious protesting with a chaste kiss. “Are you gonna talk all night or are you gonna get this cute butt out of these jeans?”

Niall lets out a shocked cackle when Harry squeezes said butt. 

~

“Please, stop laughing,” Niall says between cackles.

“It’s just—” Harry breaks himself off with another bout of giggles. “You’re so presumptuous, Mister Horan.”

“Shut up,” Niall mumbles, tugging Harry roughly down the aisle, and Harry can see his cheeks turn even redder. The fluorescent lights of this Walmart aren’t flattering on anyone, but Harry can’t think of anything that could better than Niall’s nervous smile at this moment. “You’re the one who keeps groping me.”

Harry takes this moment to palm at Niall’s butt once more, not caring how scandalized that old lady on that moped had looked as she rode past. “Good thing we’re here, then, hmm?” 

“You’re obnoxious,” Niall says and turns a corner to walk through an aisle. They walk past rows and rows of tampons and maxipads before they stop before the display of condoms and lube.

“Why do they lock these up anyway?” Harry wonders, running his eyes across the rows of stuff to see if they have his brand. “They should be giving this stuff away.”

“I don’t know, Harry,” Niall mumbles, and Harry can see that he’s bouncing impatiently on his toes. “I’m gonna go grab a salesperson.” 

It doesn’t occur to Harry that he’s never actually taken anyone to buy condoms with him in all the time he’s been having sex. It’s like condoms would always be there, right when he needed them, as if by magic. Harry lets out a little chuckle at this—at how deliberate everything he’s done with Niall had seemed. Nothing has been a whirlwind, nothing has been spontaneously sexy. And yet, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt his heart beating so quickly in his chest before having sex with anyone else. 

All this, at a Walmart.

“So which one, sir?” Harry hears and he realizes that Niall has come back with the salesperson.

“Hmm, well,” Harry frowns in concentration, as he looks at all the different things on the display case. “Well, I suppose—” He plucks a box from its spot. “If they’re ribbed for her pleasure, then—”

“Ah, jesus,” Niall grits out, and Harry doesn’t even have to look at him to know that he’s probably turning beet red. “Just pick something, will you? I’ll be in the car.”

“But this is supposed to be a decision we make together, babe,” Harry says in his most saccharine sweet voice. “It’s about both of our pleasure.”

Niall only shakes his head, mortified, before he heads down the aisle and probably toward the parking lot.

Harry just turns to the salesperson who’s grown pretty red herself. “Well, where were we?”

~

Niall’s changed his sheets.

This set of bedding is navy blue and soft under Harry’s palm where he’s running his hand nervously down across the comforter. He’s got his eyes trained on Niall, who’s keeping eye contact but can’t stop chewing at his cuticles. 

They haven’t really touched much on the drive home from the store, or from the walk from the front door to the bedroom, or during the ten minutes they’ve spent just staring at each other from across the bed. Harry thinks Niall can hear his heart beating. The box of condoms and the little bottle of lube sit between them.

“So…” Harry breaks the silence, running his hands down his thighs to inconspicuously wipe his sweaty palms. “Sex.”

“OK, I hate that,” Niall says, and readjusts himself so he’s sitting criss cross applesauce on the bed. “Why is this so awkward? 

“Well, you wouldn’t let me take your clothes off, for one,” Harry starts, but Niall is quick to roll his eyes. “You started unbuttoning my jeans the moment I parked my car in the driveway, Harry.”

“And you’re still clothed!” Harry huffs, sitting up on his haunches, because he can’t not be moving right now. “You’ve got clothes on, and your private parts are not on my private parts.”

“Harry!” Niall looks away from Harry, blushing the cutest shade of red in the whole world. “You’re such an idiot.” There’s no bite behind it, though, so Harry decides that he succeeded in breaking the tension and starts making his way toward Niall on his knees. 

“Look at that smile,” Harry mumbles, cradling Niall’s face in his hands. Niall rolls his eyes, but the grin on his face only grows. Harry starts running his thumbs down the apples of Niall’s cheeks, and his smile slowly morphs into something more serious. “Hey,” Niall starts, but Harry can’t help it when he leans down to stop his thought with a kiss. 

“Sorry, you were saying,” Harry mumbles after pulling back half an inch, but Niall just replies with a groan and a frustrated, “Shut up” before pulling him back in.

It isn’t long before their kiss deepens and Harry’s pulling Niall down with him as he lies down on his back. They kiss with intent, so different from all their previous experiences like this. This time, Harry doesn’t hesitate before running his hands down Niall’s back and squeezing his butt. Niall lets out a low groan and runs his hands up Harry’s back under his shirt.

“Fuck, why are you still—” Harry mumbles against Niall’s lips before he starts unbuttoning Niall’s shirt. “Don’t pop m’buttons,” Niall mumbles against Harry’s skin before he starts leaving sloppy kisses down his neck. It takes a few tries before Harry’s finally pushing Niall’s shirt off. Niall stops kissing him and pulls off his shirt, and Harry takes a moment to run his hands up Niall’s sides. He looks so pale, even in the dim light of his bedside lamp, but Niall doesn't let him admire him for too long before he’s leaning back down to kiss Harry long and deep and just so.

“Your turn,” Niall whispers and starts unbuttoning Harry’s own shirt. They don’t stop kissing, and soon enough Harry’s shirt is discarded and they start working on each other’s belts. It’s a bit ridiculous, almost cartoonish, the urgency with which they’re unbuttoning each other’s jeans, but Harry needs Niall naked weeks ago. The sound that Niall’s trousers make when he starts pulling them off are like music to Harry’s ears, but he doesn’t get to enjoy it much before he’s struggling to pull his jeans down his legs. 

“What the hell,” Niall mumbles, running his hands up Harry’s thighs. Harry frowns and then looks at where Niall’s apparently staring at his thigh. “Oh, it’s a tiger,” Harry explains, but Niall doesn’t seem to hear him as he continues to run his hands up and down Harry’s thighs. “I got it at this tattoo parlor in Oma—” Harry’s train of thought totally abandons him the second Niall’s mouth makes contact with his thigh. “Oh my God.”

“You’re the tackiest person I’ve ever met,” Niall mumbles, peppering kisses up Harry’s thigh and toward his navel, running his hands down to the waistband of his boxers. He wonders if people have died this way. “But God help me if I’m not fucking attracted to you.”

A shudder runs down Harry’s entire body, and he has to pull Niall up to kiss him, rough and dirty and so turned on. He supposes that he could be making this moment last, turn this into a real sensual kind of night, but who gives a fuck, so Harry clumsily pulls Niall’s underwear down his skinny legs and quickly follows suit. 

“You’re a toothpick,” Harry mumbles before Niall pushes at him roughly against the pillows. The muscles in Harry’s stomach constrict as Niall runs his palm down it slowly. He’s about to ask Niall to hurry up, but his words die in his throat when Niall quickly ducks down and gets his mouth around him.

It’s been a while, so Harry can understand why he feels so completely overwhelmed by the sensation that Niall’s tongue elicits in him as he enthusiastically works his mouth around Harry’s dick. But other than the novelty of having someone suck him off for the first time in months, Niall’s enthusiasm and the sight of his head bobbing up and down on Harry’s crotch is so hot, Harry feels like he could come at any moment.

“Babe,” Harry chokes out. “Please, come on. You gotta—”

“You want me to stop?” Niall asks, lifting his head so Harry can get a good look at his flushed cheeks and his reddened lips. He lifts an incredulous eyebrow, and Harry would be offended if Niall wasn’t still leisurely jerking him off with his left hand. “I can stop.”

“No, I just,” Harry swallows, taking the sight of Niall, flushed all the way down his cheft, disheveled in a way he thinks hardly anyone gets to see, and so beautifully naked just for him, and he needs nearly a full minute to form a coherent thought. “We went shopping tonight for a reason, you know.”

“What do you wanna do?” Niall asks, running his knuckles idly down Harry’s inner thigh.

“You should fuck me,” Harry says simply, spreading his legs unconsciously, and he revels on the way Niall’s hand pauses its movement abruptly. “Please.”

“Yeah?” Niall asks, voice husky and quiet as if he raises the volume of his voice will break the spell they’re under.

Harry just nods and scoots down a little so his body can be closer to Niall’s. “Yeah, come on. If you make me wait any longer I think I’ll cry.”

Laughing, Niall leans up to give Harry a long, languid kiss. “I can’t believe I get to do this with you.”

And out of anything that Niall has said tonight, out of all the things he’s done to Harry’s body, this is the thing that gives him pause. This isn’t just about sex for them, at least not anymore. This, like a lot of the things they’ve done in the last few months, is an experience they’re having together, another thing in their list of firsts. “I know.”

Niall lets out another excited cackle as he pushes Harry’s hair off his face, and Harry’s heart skips a beat. “Let’s get this started then, shall we. We’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

Harry has to agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey what's up it's been a while
> 
> jk but you're welcome also i just wanted to let you girls know that i do read the comments and i'm v appreciative i'm just 2 nervous 2 respond :* but i'll answer q's on [on tumblr](http://www.mpregfan1994.tumblr.com)
> 
> ps can u spot the prerequisite when harry met sally ref #vintageme


	6. every look, every touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for slight mention of bondage in like a jokey way very much used for humor, etc

“Mom says she breastfed us for about six months,” Harry mumbles, switching from his messaging app on his phone to Google the benefits of breastfeeding. “Do you think that’s what you’d wanna do?”

“I would like to do it for as long as possible,” Gemma mumbles, pulling little Lucas away from where he’d been feeding for the past few minutes. “And I work from home anyway, so it’s not like I wouldn’t be able to do it.”

Harry hums in agreement before getting distracted by a new text from Niall. Earlier, Harry had asked him if he could take Niall out for drinks in the city on Friday, and now Niall’s responded with the blushing emoji a few times and an _of course_. He can’t help the grin that spreads over his face as he responds with a few emojis of his own (a habit he’s only picked recently, one he does only when he’s texting Niall), and before he can bite down on his grin, he hears Gemma snort out a laugh.

“I haven’t seen you like this since you were nineteen,” Gemma mumbles, placing the baby next to her on the couch. “All giggly and smitten.”

“I’m not smitten,” Harry grumbles, getting up to pick up the baby. Gemma adjusts her clothes as Harry makes himself comfortable next to her on the couch, little Lucas safely ensconced in his arms. He’s turning a month old in a few days, and it still shocks Harry sometimes how much he grows every day. 

“You’re a smitten kitten,” Gemma leans in to run her fingers through Lucas's sparse wisps of hair.

“Maybe I’m a little smitten,” Harry allows, because, yeah, maybe Niall does inhabit eighty percent of his daily thoughts. He can’t help how sometimes, when he’s doing the dishes or changing Lucas’s diaper, his mind will drift to the way Niall’s eyes will crinkle and his nose will scrunch up when he’s found something especially funny. Or how he’ll read an article on easy DIY’s for kids and bookmark them to send to Niall so they can try them with the twins later. Or how, when he’s taking a shower, his hand will drift south when he remembers the little whines Niall makes right before he comes. 

“Well, it’s nice to see that,” Gemma takes Lucas from Harry’s arms. “What do you think of Uncle Harry getting a steady boyfriend, baby?” Gemma asks the baby before rubbing her nose against his. “How do you feel about that?” Lucas just gurgles happily, and Gemma presses a series of sweet kisses against his face. 

“So, since you’re in a sweet mood,” Gemma starts, letting the baby breathe a little bit. “What do you wanna do for your birthday?”

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugs, unlocking his phone to check if he’s gotten any new messages. “It’s next week, so there’s not much time to plan anything anyway.”

“Good thing I already made dinner reservations,” Gemma says, and Harry turns to shoot her a shocked look. “It’s been a while since we’ve been able to celebrate your birthday together. It’s this Thursday, and I’ve already invited Mom and Robin. You wanna give me a proper guest list?”

It’s a few hours later, when Harry is stretching before his afternoon run that his phone rings and it’s Niall’s name and that adorable photo Harry took of him mid-laugh that lights up on the screen of his phone. “What’s up?” Harry steps out of the house, only shivering a little under his windbreaker. 

“Just wanted to check in,” Niall hums against the receiver, and Harry can hear the background noises that make up his evening activities. He can hear the noise of music playing lightly in the background, the sounds of the cabinets in the kitchen opening and closing, even one of the twins laughing loudly in the background. “How was your day?”

“Not very eventful,” Harry informs him, and starts making his way down the street. “Hey, I’m about to start my run, you mind if I just pop in for a bit?”

“’Course,” Niall says, and Harry can feel the metallic sound of a pan hitting the stove. “It’ll probably be bath time when you get here, though, so just let yourself in.”

Harry just hums and bids him goodbye before hanging up and picking up speed. 

Forty-five minutes later, Harry finds himself letting himself into the Horan home. “It’s just me!” Harry calls out before locking the door behind him. He doesn’t wait for a response before he makes his way to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. The kitchen is still in a post-dinner mess, so after he chugs down his second glass of water, he sets to tidying up.

Harry doesn’t notice anyone coming into the kitchen until he feels a pair of hands settle on his hips. “You don’t have to do all that,” Niall presses a kiss against the back of Harry’s neck.

“I needed something to do,” Harry turns his head a bit to catch Niall’s lips in a real kiss. “Hey.” Niall’s mouth breaks into a smile, and Harry turns fully around to wrap his arms around Niall’s shoulders. “Are the kids down?” 

“Almost,” Niall places a last kiss on Harry’s lips. “I’m just about to tuck them in.”

“Can I say goodnight?” Harry asks, squeezing Niall’s shoulders. “Sure,” Niall nods and turns around to lead Harry toward the twins’ bedroom. “Hopefully they don’t get too worked up, though.”

“Oh,” Harry’s about to backtrack when he trips right into the twins’ bedroom, eliciting little gasps and stray giggles. Both Robbie and Annie get out of bed to approach Harry, who’s landed on his knees on their flower-patterned rug. 

“Harry, are you OK?” Robbie asks, placing his little hands on Harry’s face, as if looking into his eyes will inform him of any injuries Harry’s got. “Do you need ice?”

“I’m OK, little guy,” Harry assures him, straightening up on his knees. “Go back to bed. I just wanted to say goodnight to you guys.”

“You’re clumsy,” Annie informs him, hopping from foot to foot on her tippy toes. “You can’t do ballet if you’re clumsy.”

“Are you gonna do ballet?” Harry stands up and starts guiding Annie toward her bed. Robbie’s already under the covers snuggling with Pepe the penguin.

“Papi says I can start after summer,” Annie says, letting Harry tuck her into her bed. He hears Niall doing the same thing for Robbie opposite of him. “He says we gotta learn to swim first.”

“I can hold my breath underwater for five minutes!” Robbie announces, and Harry turns to smile at how he’s bouncing excitedly against his mattress.

“Five seconds, baby,” Niall corrects him, and kisses his forehead. “Calm down, now. It’s bedtime.”

“Harry, can you sing good?” Annie asks, snuggling against her own stuffed pet—Chulo, a raggedy stuffed dog. 

“I think I sing all right,” Harry runs a hand through her messy hair before standing up.

“Papi’s the best singer in the world,” Annie hums just as Niall snorts out a laugh. He picks up his guitar that’s sitting on a stand in the corner of the room anyway, and sets it on his lap when he sits on the edge of Robbie’s bed. This is the part of their nightly ritual that Harry hasn’t had the chance to really immerse himself in, and he probably should walk out and wait for Niall to be done in his bedroom. But Niall makes no indication of wanting Harry to leave, so Harry just sits down quietly on the edge of Annie’s bed.

“Just one tonight, babies,” Niall tells them and sets his guitar on his lap. “What’ll it be?”

The twins seem to discuss their choices for a moment, and Harry is momentarily distracted by Niall strumming idly on the guitar. 

“Papi, can you do the sweet song?” Robbie asks, bringing Harry back into attention. 

“Oh, um,” Niall starts turning a little red. “Are you sure?”

“Please!” the twins beg in unison, Niall snorts out a laugh before rolling his eyes and mumbling an “Ok.” 

He starts strumming his guitar, and the tune that comes out is more recognizable than the idle notes Niall had been playing before. It’s soft and familiar, and when Niall starts singing, Harry’s heart clenches a bit at his rough but soothing voice. 

“ _And I will stroll the merry way and jump the hedges first_ ,” Niall sings softly, and he’s got his attention focused on the two pairs of eyes that are staring adoringly at him. “ _And I will drink the clear clean water for to quench my thirst_ …”

Harry can’t imagine the kids understand the words that their father is singing so sweetly to them, but they seem to be completely soothed by it. Soon enough, their eyes are half-lidded, and they’re drifting off just as Niall is halfway through the second verse. 

Niall stops playing, and he gets up to kiss the twins’ foreheads and whisper a few goodnight’s before he puts his guitar away. Harry follows Niall as he steps out of the room, and as soon as they've closed the door behind themselves, Harry pulls Niall in by his hips into a hug. 

“Is it inappropriate,” Harry mumbles against Niall’s cheek, running his hands up and down his back in a way that he hopes is soothing, “that I just wanna make out with you a bunch after seeing you sing to your children?”

“Well, of course it’s inappropriate,” Niall snorts and starts guiding them toward his bedroom. “But you’re an inappropriate person in general.”

“I’ll show you inappropriate,” Harry bites lightly at Niall’s earlobe and his hands fall down to his butt to squeeze a little. 

“Hey!” Niall hisses, clearly trying to not wake up the twins, and Harry decides the best idea to keep him quiet is to kiss the sound out of him. Niall melts into the kiss fairly easily, and they end up kissing the rest of the way to the bedroom.

“We can’t do much tonight,” Niall says between kisses. Harry makes lets out a pained whine but doesn’t stop running his hands down Niall’s back where they’re making out on the bed. “Don’t do that. I’ve gotta wake up early tomorrow. You take up too much time, you know.”

“But it’s my _birthday week_ ,” Harry moans, running his nails down Niall’s back. 

“Wait, is it?” Niall asks, pulling back from Harry’s mouth. “Is it really your birthday this week?”

“Oh yeah,” Harry frowns down at Niall. “I guess I forgot to say?” He presses a quick kiss to Niall’s lips. “This Thursday.”

Niall props himself up on his elbows to frown up at Harry, who sighs and sits down where he’s straddling Niall’s hips. “Why didn’t you say, then?”

“It didn’t come up,” Harry shrugs. “But Gemma did plan a birthday dinner for me, so I’m inviting you.”

“Find it hard to believe that you’d give up an opportunity to turn attention towards yourself,” Niall says, but he bites at Harry’s chin playfully. Harry frowns but tweaks Niall’s nose, which elicits a short laugh out of him. “Although you did just use it to try to talk me into sex, so.”

Insulted, Harry scoffs dramatically. “Talk into’ like little Niall isn’t standing at attention right now,” Harry punctuates his words by groping at Niall’s crotch through his sweats. 

“Stop,” Niall laughs and tries to swat Harry’s hand away. “You’re so weird—you’re the weirdest person I’ve ever slept with.”

Harry just grins down at him before letting out a low sigh and stretching out over him. “My weird turns you on,” he mumbles placidly and nestles against Niall’s chest. “You think my weird is charming.”

“It’s entertaining,” Niall mumbles against the crown of Harry’s head. They don’t talk for a while after that, the only sound Harry hears is that of the heater running on the house system and Niall’s hand running down the fabric of Harry’s sweatshirt. The sweat from his run has dried up, and Harry feels a bit sticky and gross, but mostly he feels soothed by Niall’s rhythmic touches. “And I can drop the kids off with Alma’s family on Thursday.”

“If you want,” Harry shrugs. “But they can come to dinner too. I would actually love to have them there.”

“Yeah?” Niall mumbles, and Harry nods silently. “Yeah, OK, we’ll be there.”

Harry just hums, pleased, and starts running a thumb down the inside of Niall’s forearm.

“If you really wanna, um,” Niall clears his throat and makes a gesture with his hand that probably translates to ‘sex.’ “We could fool around a little, if you wanted to.”

Harry lets out a low hum and wraps himself a little tighter around Niall. “You know, I’m more tired than I thought.”

“You wanna go home?” Niall asks, running his hand through Harry’s hair. 

“I mean,” Harry lifts his head to look up at Niall. “You think I could just sleep over tonight?”

“Yeah, sure,” Niall smiles down at him, and Harry has to press a short kiss against his lips. “You can shower if you want. I can lend you some clothes.” 

“Thanks, babe,” Harry smiles against Niall’s lips when he kisses him again in gratitude. 

~

When Thursday rolls around, it’s without much fanfare.

Harry spends the day responding to all the “happy birthday” messages he receives, drives Gemma to a doctor’s appointment, and, after she treats him to lunch at a cute café downtown, helps her do a few loads of laundry before taking a short nap on the couch. When he wakes up, Gemma tells him to start getting ready so they can head out.

The restaurant they go to is that Italian place he and Niall had gone to on their first date, which makes Harry smile as soon as he walks in. His parents are already sitting at their table, and soon enough everybody’s arriving and wishing Harry a happy birthday. Almost everybody’s arrived and Harry’s mom and Zayn are having a fascinating conversation about street art when Niall and the twins come rushing toward the table.

“Sorry we’re late,” Niall huffs, out of breath. “Work stuff and there was so much traffic—hello, I’m Niall.” He steps forward to shake Harry’s mom’s hand. “This is Annie and Robbie.”

“Hi!” Robbie and Annie say in unison, Robbie hiding behind his sister while she smiles brightly at Anne. 

“Annie, huh?” Anne says, returning her smile. “What do you know--that’s my name too.”

That elicits a shocked gasp, and the twins don’t take too long to warm up to Harry’s parents. Harry exchanges a smile with Niall, who moves to his kids to help them out of their coats, making polite conversation with Anne and Robin.

“Meeting the parents,” Louis says, leaning back evilly on his chair. “Kind of soon, isn’t it?”

“Shut up,” Harry sighs, resigned to a night full of teasing. 

“Didn’t you two forget something?” Niall asks where he’s taking off his coat next to Harry, which, how hadn’t he noticed that everyone had left three empty seats next to him? He doesn’t have much time to think over it before he’s inundated by a chorus of cheerful happy birthday’s and the twins are trying to climb on him.

“Well, thank you, sweet things,” Harry says, running his hands through two wild heads of hair. “I’m so happy to see you at my dinner!” When he looks up to look at Niall, he’s got a bashful grin playing on his lips. 

“Harry, we made you a card!” Robbie announces as Niall starts helping them to their seats next to Harry. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Niall repeats after Harry’s leaned in for a quick peck on his lips, to which Harry responds with a scoff. 

“Papi, the card!” Annie jumps up and down on her seat and accidentally moves the silverware in front of her.

“Papi!” Robbie calls out, jumping up and down a little as well. 

“Hey, behave,” Niall orders, not unkindly, taking a seat. “I’ll give it to him after dinner.”

The kids do their customary whining, but they settle down once Niall shoots them an unimpressed look that conveys something along the lines of, “You know what’s gonna happen if you don’t behave.” It’s kind of hot.

The rest of dinner goes on wonderfully, despite Harry’s slight annoyance at not being able to touch Niall inappropriately. Zayn, Louis, and Liam get into an animated discussion about the latest Marvel movie, a conversation Harry tunes out. Mark and Fatima exchange stories about the babies, who they have in their respective carriers next to them. Harry helps Annie twirl her spaghetti with her fork while he listens to Niall tell a work story to Gemma, Anne, and Robin.

“Papi, what does ‘amibly’ mean?” Robbie asks, gesturing with his right hand, which is holding a fork with a meatball skewered in it. 

“Amiably, darlin’,” Niall corrects, guiding Robbie’s fork toward his mouth. “It means something like friendly.”

“Chihiro from school is amibly,” Robbie says, mouth full of food. “She lends me her markers and stuff.” 

“Chihiro is _so_ nice,” Annie sighs, putting her elbows on the table. “She always wears the best socks.”

Anne and Niall laugh, and something inside Harry warms up and spreads from his chest to the tips of his toes. He hadn’t thought much about the fact that tonight would be the first time his mom would be meeting Niall and the twins. In retrospect, he probably should have taken it more seriously, considering the fact that he and Niall haven’t really talked about what they’re doing. Tonight, though, feels like a lot of pieces falling into place. 

“Oh, what have we got here?” Louis asks, voice carrying above everyone’s. Harry has one second to be confused before he sees a waiter carrying a cake with sparklers already lit.

The twins squeal in excitement, and when Annie starts climbing on Harry’s lap, Robbie follows suit. Everybody gathers around Harry so the waiter can take a photo, and Harry can’t tamper down his grin long enough to blow out the sparklers, so the twins do it for him. He feels a hand reach down to tuck his hair behind his right ear, and when he looks up, Niall is looking back at him with that crinkly grin Harry’s grown to love.

“Do you remember your seventh birthday?” Gemma asks later, running a soft hand through Lucas’s sparse hairs. “You know, the year you insisted on having a farm-themed party?”

“I’d forgotten about that,” Harry frowns up at her from where he’d been wiping frosting off Annie’s ear. “We went to a petting zoo, right?”

“Yeah, and the goats scared you,” Gemma laughs. Annoyingly, everybody else laughs too.

“Did one of them bite you?” Mark asks, his look a mixture between hopeful and bored.

“No,” Harry answers, to which Mark responds with an unimpressed, “Too bad.”

“He spent most of the day with the bunnies,” Anne confirms, then takes a sip of coffee. “I’ll post a photo on Facebook once I find it.”

“How adorable,” Louis says dryly. “Please tag me in that, Anne.”

“It’s still my birthday, you know,” Harry grumbles, re-folding his napkin. “I haven’t even opened my presents yet.”

“Nice, bro,” Zayn laughs. “Subtle.”

“Give him ours, Zee,” Fatima urges quietly, little Saliha sleeping on her shoulder. “You’re gonna love it, Harry. Zayn spent like two weeks just agonizing over what to get you.”

Zayn’s face falls, and he looks like a grumpy cat, and Louis and Liam snicker beside him. “I did not agonize,” Zayn mumbles, reaching under his seat to pull out a wrapped package. It looks like a record, and when Harry unwraps it, he sees that they’ve gotten him a copy of _Hounds of Love_. Harry has to get up and give Zayn a big, obnoxious hug.

They go around the table this way, present after wonderful present. Liam gives him a new leatherbound journal, Louis begrudgingly gives him a vintage edition if _The Bell Jar_ , and that’s as far as they get before Annie is speaking up.

“Papi, we’re next!” Annie announces, getting up from her seat and rushing to her father’s side. “Papi, hurry!”

Harry hears Niall snort a laugh beside him before he rummages through his briefcase in search of something. 

“Here,” Niall hands Harry two sheets of construction paper held together by some yarn to make a sort of booklet. When Harry takes it in his hands, he notices that “Happy Birthday” is scrawled in big block letters in different colored markers, as well as a bunch of stickers with animals stuck haphazardly all around. Harry looks up to shoot Niall and the kids a smile before he opens the card, and the kids excitedly make their way back to him and start talking a mile a minute about the minutiae of making the card. 

The inside of the card’s got these little messages from the kids, written, Harry suspects, with a lot of help from their dad. The twins barely know the alphabet, so the mere fact that they insisted on writing these short sentences to wish him a happy birthday, as messily written as they are, warms his heart. Additionally, Niall’s written his own short note, his bubbly handwriting conveying a sweet congratulations that is equal parts simple as it is earnest. 

“You guys are the best,” Harry mumbles, getting on his knees to give them a big tight hug. “This is the best card I’ve ever gotten, and I’m gonna keep it forever and ever.”

“You really like it?” Robbie asks, his eyes going wide. 

“I love it!” Harry says, placing a hand on each of the twins’ cheeks. “Thank you both so much for making this for me.”

Robbie takes this chance to climb on his lap again, which seems to put off Annie a little bit, but she only shrugs and runs over to her father to climb on his lap. Harry manages to catch Niall’s eyes, so he smiles warmly and mouths a quick “thank you” before moving on to the rest of his gifts.

The night starts winding down soon after. Zayn and Fatima are the first to leave, Saliha fast asleep in Zayn’s arms. A little while after that, everyone gathers in the front of the restaurant to say their good-byes. The twins, sleepy as they are, cling to Harry as he says good-bye to Liam and Louis. Louis gives him one last knowing look before he hugs him. Harry is surprised for a second until he whispers an obnoxious, “You know how much I hate to say ‘I told you so.’”

“I hope you lose all your hair,” Harry says, pushing him off. “I mean all of it.”

Louis just laughs and punches him lightly in the shoulder before he and Liam head out. 

“Hello, little ones,” Harry’s mom approaches him and crouches down to get to the twins’ level. “It was so nice to meet you two tonight.”

“You too, ma’am,” the twins say in unison, and Annie moves forward to hug her and give her a kiss on the cheek. Robbie follows suit, and the smile that spreads over Anne’s face makes something swell in Harry’s chest. 

“Happy birthday, baby,” Anne says and envelops Harry in a warm hug. “We’ll talk about this later,” she laughs, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “But I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Harry smiles back at her, and soon enough her and Robin are bidding their last goodbyes. 

“You driving with us or with them?” Mark asks before they head to the parking lot. 

“Um,” Harry takes one look at Gemma, who raises an amused eyebrow, then one look at Niall, who just grins. The twins are too tired to be making a fuss, but Annie pulls at Harry’s jacket anyway. “I’ll see you guys later, right?”

“Say ‘bye,’ kids,” Niall orders gently, and the twins rush forward to give Mark and Gemma hugs and kisses and to say goodbye to the baby. With a last wave, Harry sees them off, and they start walking in the opposite direction.

“Papi, what time is it?” Robbie asks, reaching out for Niall’s hand. 

“It’s almost nine-thirty, petal,” Niall informs him, taking his hand. Immediately, Annie rushes to grab hold of his free hand. Harry digs his phone from his back pocket and quietly takes a photo of the three of them.

“Papi, I’m not even tired,” Annie assures him, nose in the air. “I could stay awake the _whole_ night!” 

“Me too,” Robbie says, but the yawn that comes out betrays him. “Not tired.”

Harry helps Annie get buckled into her booster seat, and soon enough they’re on their way.

“Thanks for coming,” Harry says quietly, since the kids are fast asleep in the back. “My mom liked you, I think.”

“Yeah, um,” Niall clears his throat, tapping on the steering wheel. “I liked her too. And your step-dad.”

“Is it too soon?” Harry asks, frown forming on his face. He hadn’t seen Niall show any signs of discomfort throughout the night, so he hadn’t thought he had a reason to be worried, but they’ve only been really dating for a few weeks, and if Harry were Niall, he thinks he would be freaking out.

“I don’t know,” Niall sighs. “I don’t think so. I’ve known you for almost six months; I’ve known Gemma for longer, so I would have met them eventually, I think. Besides, it doesn’t feel weird. Do you feel weird?”

“I don't feel weird,” Harry answers honestly. “I feel good.”

“Good,” Niall stops at a red light, and his smile takes on an eerie quality when the light reflects on it, but Harry smiles back anyway. “I’m glad.

“Take me out tomorrow night,” Harry reaches out to run a hand down Niall’s thigh. “Let’s paint the town red, old boy.”

Niall lets out a snort and moves his hand from the wheel to lace his fingers with Harry’s. “Only if you stay the night, darlin’.” 

“Now, what kind of guy do you think I am, pal,” Harry sniffs, but he leans in to peck Niall quickly on the lips before the light turns green.

~

“…so I’m stuck there, locked out of the building, and Louis is so drunk he doesn’t even have shoes on,” Harry gestures with his hand, forgetting for a second that he’s holding a glass of wine and spilling a little bit of it on the pristine tablecloth. “And we have to leave the dorms first thing in the morning. A fitting way to end my freshman year of college.”

Niall lets out a delighted cackle and throws his napkin on his empty plate. “I can’t believe one of your exes hated you so much she not only stole your keycard, but your roommate’s as well.”

They’re at this Thai place downtown, cozy and small, and they’re in a secluded booth that makes this night feel more romantic. Like most of his nights spent around Niall, this one’s been nice, and Harry is full on good food and wine, and eager for Niall to take him home. Niall, who looks so handsome in a forest green sweater, has been making Harry’s heart beat in irregular patterns all night. 

“I was a bit of a jerk at nineteen,” Harry allows before swallowing the last dregs of wine in his glass. “A bit inconsiderate and that.”

“We were all young and stupid once, I suppose,” Niall rubs his thumb against the edge of his plate. “I mean you’re still pretty stupid.”

“Well, don’t be rude, Niall,” Harry frowns dramatically. “Or else I won’t let you stick the landing tonight.”

“Don’t use the word ‘stick’ when you talk about sex with me,” Niall’s got his eyes narrowed at Harry. “You can drive yourself home, pal.”

“But I’m tipsy, Niall,” Harry argues, batting his lashes. “I'm vulnerable to predators.”

Niall looks like he’s about to roll his eyes once again, but the involuntary laugh he lets out betrays his annoyed act. “Well, let’s get you home before you get snatched by a big bird or something.”

“You think my main predator would be a big bird?”

~

“So I may have had ulterior motives for bringing you back here,” Niall says as he unlocks the front door. 

“Um,” Harry’s hands freeze where he’s already trying to undo Niall’s fly. “You know I’m a sure thing, right? In fact, if you _don’t_ fuck me after you open this door, I will be really upset.”

“Why does everything have to be dirty with you?” Niall scoffs, just as the door opens in front of them. “Whatever, what I’m trying to say is I have something for you.”

Harry hums, pleased, and his hands start to slide down Niall’s pants again. “I have something for you too, mister.”

“Now hold on, hold on,” Niall laughs and pulls Harry’s hands off him. When he turns, he reaches behind Harry to close the door and turn on the lights. The mood’s a little ruined by the change in lighting, but Niall’s bashful smile makes Harry’s beat a little faster just the same. 

“Well, show us, then?” Harry leans back against the door and places his hands primly behind his back. “Make it quick, buster, little Harry hasn’t got all night.”

“Well, follow me, idiot,” Niall pats at Harry’s hip once before retreating toward the bedroom. “You’re already making me regret this, though, so I’m giving you this very begrudgingly.”

“Well I’m intrigued, in any case,” Harry calls out, making his way leisurely after Niall. “I hope whatever this is you’re giving me doesn’t mean I don’t get to do that thing you promised we could try. I know you said it sounded a bit out there, but it feels really good, I promise.” And whatever’s on the tip of Harry’s tongue next kind of dies in his mouth when he passes the threshold into Niall’s room. There he is—Niall, hunched over a little and holding a small box in his hands. 

“Oh, Niall,” Harry can feel his heartbeat ratchet up in speed when he sees the carefully wrapped box in Niall’s hands. The flush on Niall’s face and the way he’s biting at his lip makes Harry walk over to him and place his hands on his shoulders. “You know you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Well, I did so,” Niall holds it out for Harry, who takes it gently from his hands and pecks him quickly on his cheek. “Just like, don’t get any ideas,” Niall clears his throat. “I just know how you like stuff like this so I just thought—”

As Niall’s been rambling, Harry has unwrapped the little box. He lets out a soft “Oh” when he gets the box open and sees a silver signet ring with an ‘S’ carved on the plate. It’s big and a little gaudy, and when he tries it on his right pointer finger, one of the few where he hasn’t got a ring on, it fits perfectly. “Oh, Niall.”

“I don’t want you to think I mean anything by like—” Niall hesitates, and when Harry looks up from where he’d been staring a bit at his new ring, Niall’s tugging at a piece of hair near his temple, and he’s grown even redder. “I know what rings can mean, right, but I just wanted to give one to you because you wear them so much.” He huffs out a nervous breath. “There’s no, like, implication.”

It’s a lovely gesture anyway, and Harry can’t help the warmth that seems to spread all over his body when he looks at how well this simple ring fits with the rest of his hand. Of course, Harry knows that Niall is attentive and thoughtful, but now, thinking about how Niall had catalogued Harry’s taste and had bought something specifically to fit that—it makes Harry’s heart beat a little faster. 

“I really love this,” Harry says, smiling at Niall, who has got a cuticle in his mouth now. And no, Niall doesn’t have to be anxious right now, not when he’s hit such a homerun. So Harry presses his lips quickly against his. “Thank you so much.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” Niall lets out a relieved laugh. “And I’m glad it fits. I was worried.”

“You’re so sweet,” Harry says, and he looks down at his ring once more. 

“What do you want to do now?” Niall asks, and Harry can see how he’s tapping his fingers erratically against his jeans. He’s still got a lot of pent up energy. “Are you, um. What are you up for?”

“Oh, young Niall,” Harry grabs Niall’s face in his hands before he kisses him, making sure to add a lot of tongue. When he pulls back, Niall’s lips are bitten red, and his eyes are doing that thing that makes Harry go weak in the knees. “I’m gonna eat you right up.”

~

The next morning, Harry wakes up pleasantly sore and with Niall’s arm wrapped around his middle. He’s woken up this way, with Niall close and warm against his body, so many times in the past few weeks, but it still warms something inside his chest whenever Harry opens his eyes and sees Niall’s soft blonde hair or his hands clutched into tight fists with an anxious dream. Harry tries to be as quiet as possible when he turns on his side to face Niall. He busies himself with counting the amount of freckles on Niall’s nose when Niall starts groaning.

“Mornin’,” Harry mumbles and leans in to bite lightly at Niall’s nose. “Open your eyes.”

“I should’ve gagged you when I had the chance,” Niall groans, and Harry lets out a soft laugh before biting him again. 

“We’ll go back to that one later, but,” Harry shifts so he can pull Niall closer and spoon him properly. “Wake up—I wanna blow you.”

“Ugh,” Niall rolls his eyes but snuggles closer to Harry. “Five more minutes.”

“You’re already awake,” Harry starts poking at Niall’s side, hoping if he’ll annoy him enough Niall will give in.

Niall lets out a long-suffering sigh, and Harry can’t help it when he presses a kiss to his temple. “This is all so unnecessary.”

Harry hums once before running his hands down Niall’s back. “You might be the first guy in the world to scoff at a blow job.”

“You’re such a pest,” Niall groans, but he presses a kiss against Harry’s clavicle. “Go make me breakfast.”

“I’m not done cuddling,” Harry mumbles, and proceeds to press a quick succession of kisses on Niall’s temple. “I’m trying to get you in the mood here.”

“You’re insatiable,” Niall snorts, but he flips them over so he can hover over Harry. “You always get your way, don’t you?”

Harry just shrugs, grins, and places his hands behind his head.

~

It’s a few weeks later, the baby is sleeping in his room, and Harry had helped Mark cook a proper dinner for once, when, apropos to nothing, Mark asks, “So when do you think you’ll move out?”

“Babe!” Gemma shoots her husband a death glare. “Don’t be a dick.”

“I was just asking,” Mark shrugs. “It hurts me to admit this, but I do appreciate all your help. That said, I think we can manage from now on, and besides, you probably wanna be getting back to your life, right?”

Harry looks wearily between Gemma and Mark, still chewing his grilled chicken. When he swallows, he leans back against his chair and clears his throat. “If you guys want me to leave—”

“We don’t want you to leave,” Gemma interrupts, shooting a glare at Mark. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“But we don’t want you to feel like you need to stay,” Mark says, in a rare demonstration of tenderness toward Harry. “I’m not saying you’re kicked out; I’m just saying you don’t have to feel obligated to stay.”

“I know some things have changed, though,” Gemma adds, leaning in to place her hand gently on top of Harry’s. “And I know things are going well with Niall, so I don’t want to just kick you to the curb.”

“What do you mean ‘things with Niall’?” Mark asks, but thankfully Gemma starts up a conversation about something baby-related that Harry doesn’t much pay attention to. 

It’s not that he’s offended by their practical dismissal. He knows that Gemma and Mark want time and space to create their family unit, and he understands that he’s kind of in the way at this point. What he realizes, though, is that he doesn’t have a thing to go back to if he leaves. His job allows for him to live anywhere, and up until about eight months ago, he’d taken this as a reason to just roam around and not settle down. It’d been fun—couch-surfing with his friends, putting his shit in storage if he decided to backpack through northern Africa for a month, working his way through eastern Europe. He’s never had any misgivings about picking up and leaving anywhere because he’d never really had a reason to stay. He’d like a reason to stay.

~

Valentine’s Day falls on a Wednesday, which Harry spends babysitting Lucas while Gemma and Mark go on a well-earned date. Harry and Niall decide to celebrate that Friday during their designated date night, but that doesn’t stop Harry from doing a little something.

“You’re late,” Harry says when he picks up a call from Niall that Wednesday evening. “Surprised you didn’t call earlier, I’ve been worried.”

“You are so over the top, you know that?” Niall sighs, but there’s a hint of humor in it, so Harry just smiles.

“You liked the flowers,” Harry guesses, and Niall snorts out a laugh.

“Of course I liked the flowers,” Niall snaps. “You know who else liked their flowers? The kids. You sent my children—I don’t even remember telling you what school they went to.”

“So they liked their gifts, then?” Harry asks, nonplussed, which Niall responds to with a derisive snort and a call to the children. Annie and Robbie spend the next ten minutes tripping over themselves to thank Harry and tell him everything that happened during their day. Eventually, Niall drags them off to bed and begrudgingly promises Harry he’ll see him on Friday, which they spend ordering take out and making out while _This Is Spinal Tap_ plays on the TV.

“Your hair is getting so long,” Niall mumbles when he pulls back to take a breath. He tucks a strand of Harry’s hair behind his ear, a habit he’s picked up throughout the last month. 

“Do you like it?” Harry bats his eyelashes theatrically. 

“Yeah,” Niall answers sincerely. “I mean, I like you. The hair’s just part of the package.”

“Would you like me even if I was bald?” Harry asks, wrapping his arms around Niall’s waist. 

“Yes,” Niall mumbles, pushing Harry’s hair away from his forehead. “And by the looks of this migrating hairline, I don’t think it’ll be too long before that’s the case.”

“That was really mean,” Harry sits back up, straddling Niall’s hips. “I don’t like you anymore.”

“I was just kidding,” Niall laughs, squeezing Harry’s sides affectionately. “Come back down here, darlin’.”

“Don’t call me that,” Harry huffs, embarrassingly flushing a little at the term of endearment. “You’re in trouble.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Niall laughs running his hands under Harry’s sweater. “Come on, we had a rhythm going.”

“I don’t know,” Harry hums, running his hands down Niall’s chest to his belly. “What you said was pretty mean.”

“I know,” Niall hums and brings Harry’s hand to his mouth to press a few kisses on his knuckles. “Come on, let me take you to the bedroom.”

It doesn’t take much more goading for Harry to follow Niall to his bedroom. It’s weird, Harry thinks, to still, after nearing six months of spending so much of his time with Niall, and one of sleeping together, get so giddy with excitement every time Niall looks at him a certain way. He would be embarrassed about the way his heart clenches every time Niall gives him this sweet and slow smile sometimes, except for how Niall seems to reciprocate his feelings too. Harry isn’t unused to people being into him, but the way Niall makes it clear how much he cares about him is new, as is the way Niall keeps finding new ways to make him feel good.

“How was that?” Niall’s lip brushes Harry’s ear before he starts trailing kisses on his neck, making him shudder and dig his nails into Niall’s back. “Am I forgiven?”

Embarrassingly enough, Harry can’t seem to be able to conjure up a complete thought, not after the way Niall had just quite literally rocked his world in a way he’d never done before. “So now you’re quiet. Couldn’t get you to shut up a second ago.”

“Asshole,” Harry manages and drags his hand down Niall’s body to pinch at one of his nipples. Niall retaliates by dragging his lips to Harry’s and kissing him in the filthy way he’s learned Harry loves. “Don’t make any promises you’re not ready to keep.”

“Already?” Niall pulls back to shoot him a disbelieving look. “I know you’ll take this as a compliment, but it’s not, and you are insatiable.” 

“Oh please,” Harry scoffs, running his hands through Niall’s already unruly hair. “Give it a few minutes and you’ll be begging for it.”

“That’s more your thing, babe,” Niall snorts, and when he sees Harry pout, he pinches at his side and bites at Harry’s neck. “Just give me a few minutes, then. I need to stretch my knee a bit.”

“Oh.” Harry frowns down at Niall’s body as Niall gets off him and sits down next to Harry on the bed. “Does it hurt?”

“Just a bit sore,” Niall mumbles, stretching out his leg, a grimace visible on his face. “Do you mind passing me one of the pillows over there.” Niall laughs self-deprecatingly as he points to the pillows they had unceremoniously thrown to the floor. “Think it might rain, then. Knee always hurts quite a bit when the weather changes.”

“Sure.” Harry bends down to grab a pillow to arrange behind Niall’s back and one to prop Niall’s knee up with. “Do you want some ice?”

“Uh,” Niall clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. “You know, yeah, please, darlin’. If that’s not too much trouble.”

“Don’t be silly,” Harry leans in to press a quick kiss against Niall’s lips, which turns to a serious of chaste and sweet kisses. “I’ll be right back.”

“Aren’t you gonna put some underpants on?” Niall laughs, which Harry responds with a scoff and a tiny butt wiggle. 

It takes only a few minutes for Harry to grab a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and wrap a tea towel around it, but when he crosses the threshold back into the bedroom, he can’t help but smile at the way Niall has pulled the rumpled sheet over himself in some modicum of modesty. “Oh, don’t put him away, we’re just taking a break.”

“Some of us don’t enjoy letting it all hang out,” Niall rolls his eyes, but he’s got a fond smile on his face anyway. Harry returns his smile and places the frozen peas on Niall’s knee before he leans in for another kiss.

“Thank you.” Niall smiles against Harry’s lips, and Harry responds with a quiet “You’re welcome” and a few more kisses before he pulls back and sits down. “Sorry about all this—” Niall points vaguely to his knee, and Harry scoffs and shuts him up with another kiss. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Harry mumbles, lying down and getting his head on Niall’s lap. “I kind of like taking care of you, you know,” Harry confesses. “You don’t seem like you get taken care of that often.” 

“You don’t seem much like the nurturing type to me,” Niall responds, not unkindly, and the way he starts running his hand through Harry’s hair takes the sting off it a little. “And I don’t need taking care of, you know.”

“Everybody needs a little taking care of once in a while,” Harry shifts a little so he can look at Niall’s face properly. “And you’re right, I’m not saying I’m the best person to do that—”

“No, that’s not—” Niall interrupts, frown forming on his face before he leans in to press a kiss against Harry’s nose. “I keep saying all the wrong things.”

“I don’t think you do,” Harry brings a hand up to run a finger up Niall’s cheekbone, which has the intended result of getting Niall to muster up a small grin. “I think you’re trying your best.”

“I’m trying,” Niall concedes, and Harry pinches his cheek lightly in approval, which makes Niall let out a short laugh. “I just…” Niall’s smile shrinks somewhat and he lets out a shaky breath. “I really like you.”

Harry feels his heart literally skip a beat, and he can’t help the grin that overtakes his face. “I really like you,” he says, pulling his hand down to intertwine it with Niall’s. “I really, really like you.”

“Yeah, um,” Niall looks down at Harry’s chest and opens his mouth to say something but changes his mind and just looks back at Harry’s face and lets out a nervous laugh. “I really like hearing you say that.”

“I like saying it,” Harry mumbles, leaning up to kiss Niall properly. He keeps mumbling “I like you, I like you” sweetly against Niall’s skin as he sits up and straddles his hips.

“Hey now,” Niall laughs, but Harry quickly interrupts him with a deep and dirty kiss.

“I’ll be gentle,” Harry whispers against Niall’s lips. “Come on, I’ll do all the work—much like I always do.”

“Hey—”

“Shush,” Harry laughs, pushing the sheets off of Niall. “I don’t wanna hurt you, yeah?”

“You won’t.” Niall smiles up at him and squeezes Harry’s hips. “I know you won’t.”

~

They spend the rest of the day doing much of the same—fucking, eating, watching a _The Real Housewives of New York_ marathon on TV, fucking some more. It’s the best Valentine’s Day Harry’s ever had.

“Do you celebrate it often?” Niall asks, placing Harry’s omelet in front of him where he’d been watching Niall cook on the kitchen table. 

“Well, you know,” Harry shrugs before diverting his attention to his food. “I try to get a date for whatever night it falls on, so I’d say pretty often.”

“Is that why you started dating me?” Niall asks, grinning through his bite of food. Harry rolls his eyes but reaches out to tangle his free hand with Niall’s. “Quite a long con, isn’t it?”

“If I was conning you,” Harry mumbles between bites of food. “I wouldn’t be spending so much money on you.”

“You’re an idiot,” Niall points out, gesturing with his fork with one hand and running a soothing thumb down the back of Harry’s hand with his other hand. “You wouldn’t be a very good con artist.”

“I am too pure of heart,” Harry nods, and Niall predictably responds with a derisive snort, but he doesn’t move his hand from atop of Harry’s throughout their meal. 

Later, Harry is washing the dishes when Niall’s hand pops up in front of Harry’s face. He’s holding one of his ties. Harry drops the cup he’s rinsing.

“Niall…” Harry warns, turning off the water.

“Come on now, turn around,” Niall orders, not unkindly, and Harry does.

“You’re not serious.” Harry tangles his own hand through the tie that Niall’s holding. “You said—”

“I know what I said.” Niall rolls his eyes, and he’s already bright red. “But you got my kids flowers.”

“Well, I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything. I wanted to do that.”

“I know. You did it because it would make them happy. And I’m doing this because it’ll make you happy. I don’t really understand it, and I don’t think I’ll love it, but I think you’ll really enjoy it, and that’s the only reason I need, really.” 

“You’re so good to me.” Harry tries for lighthearted, but it comes out more earnest than he was aiming for. He takes a moment to just look at Niall’s pleased, if somewhat embarrassed expression, before he notices something. “Hey, is that…is that a new tie?”

“Yeah?” Niall looks at said tie, a green one with black stripes (or a black one with green stripes), then looks quizzically at Harry. “Is that a problem?”

Harry lets out an unbelieving laugh. “You bought a new tie for sex? A special Sex Tie, if you will.”

“Well, I’m very well not gonna use one of the ties I wear to work,” Niall argues, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s like—that would be super weird, Harry.”

“What do you think I’m gonna do, jerk off with it?” Harry asks, then scoffs when Niall shrugs. “I’m not that kind of kinky, you know!”

“But you are _some kind_ of kinky,” Niall points out. “And what if you accidentally do get some of your—your stuff on it?”

“Can you say the word ‘come,’ Niall?” Harry asks, a smile playing on his lips. “Can you say the word ‘come’ when I don’t have my mouth around you?”

“Oh, I say that word all the time, don’t be ridiculous,” Niall rolls his eyes, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. “It’s a common word.”

“But can you say it in a dirty context?” Harry teases, placing his hands on Niall’s hips. “Like, ‘I’m gonna make you come later’?”

“You’re so obnoxious,” Niall says, pulling away and making his way out of the kitchen. “You’re literally the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

“Oh, you’re such a Charlotte,” Harry calls out, following after Niall.

“I’m a Miranda, how dare you!” Niall calls out right back, and Harry can’t help the loud cackle that falls out of his mouth. 

“A Charlotte would totally be running away from this conversation,” Harry points out, entering the bedroom just as Niall is sitting down on the bed. “Also—and I think this is one of your more adorable quirks—you have different rubber gloves for different kinds of cleaning.”

“So?” Niall shrugs, totally unfazed. “Why would I clean my bathroom wearing the same gloves I use to polish my furniture? That’s crazy.”

“Why do you need gloves to polish your furniture?” Harry asks, sitting down next to Niall. “And why do you need a different pair of gloves to clean your windows?”

“Because I don’t want my hands to be—why are you asking me this?” Niall huffs, clearly done with this conversation. “And why are you looking at me like that?”

Harry can only guess what kind of look he’s got one—besotted, of course, and probably more than a little goofy, with the smile he can feel taking over his entire face. “What’s wrong with my face?”

“Nothing,” Niall snorts. “Well, not _nothing_ —”

“Excuse me, Niall,” Harry huffs, getting on his knees to cuff Niall by the neck. “What’s wrong with my face?”

“Let go of me, you ass,” Niall orders, but he’s laughing too hard to be taken seriously. “You smell, and I’m suffocating!”

“You should have thought of that before you insulted my beauty,” Harry wrestles his way on top of Niall and holds his hands above his head. “Now be a good boy and say you’re sorry.”

“You know, this kind of power playing is more your thing?” Niall reminds him, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “I can feel your hard-on through your sweatpants.”

“Say you’re sorry,” Harry orders, raising his own eyebrow in retaliation. “Say you’re sorry or you won’t be getting a happy ending this Valentine’s Day.”

“It’s not Valentine’s D—” Harry pinches one of Niall’s nipples in his hand, which elicits a pained groan. “Sorry—I’m sorry, OK? You’re beautiful and you smell like firewood, OK?”

“That’s a start,” Harry allows, letting go of Niall and sitting back on his waist. “Now, I shall require at least three orgasms just to consider forgiving your trespass.” 

“You say that like it’s a challenge,” Niall snorts. “Sometimes you’re like that SNL short—A breeze blowing in the wrong direction and you’re like a bowl of Jell-O.”

“OK, is that really necessary?” Harry pouts down at Niall, crossing his arms. “You couldn’t have just said, ‘Yes, Master, I shall gift you with endless orgasms, followed by my spicy mac and cheese.’”

“I thought you were off carbs.”

“Niall!”

“OK,” Niall laughs, running soothing hands up Harry’s stomach. “We can use my special Sex Tie and then I’ll make you some mac and cheese. What do you say?”

“Well, all right,” Harry sighs, climbing off of Niall and lying back on the bed. “Come on, then, we haven’t got all day.”

“Have I mentioned how annoying you are?” Niall groans, picking himself up and dragging himself over Harry. “If I have, I think it’s good to reiterate.”

“Hey,” Harry bumps his knee against Niall shoulder where he’s settled between Harry’s knees. “Watch it. Keep insulting me like that and I might nut right now.”

“Well in that case,” Niall presses a kiss against the inside of Harry’s right knee. “Your hair is stupid.” A kiss inside Harry’s thigh. “I hate your shirts.” On his tattoo. “And your shoes.” On his hipbone. “And the high pitched laugh you make when you think you’ve been clever.” Above his bellybutton. “The way you can’t seem to wear underwear. Like ever.” Harry laughs at this, and his chest moves where Niall kisses his clavicle. “Your stupid dimple.” He presses his lips against said dimple, then pulls back to look at Harry, who’s stopped laughing altogether, who’s lost his words, who is so overwhelmed he’s having trouble breathing. “That face. Can hardly stand to look at it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i super appreciate all the super great comments i think i'll reply to them all at the end but i just wanted to say i love all of them thanks!!!!!!


	7. it's clear i'm not going anywhere

Niall calls him while he’s watching Louis and Liam teach little Freddie how to play Mario Kart. Louis’s son has grown so much since the last time Harry had seen him, and it strikes Harry that the last time he had spent any extended period of time with little Freddie, he had just started to be able to hold anything in his little hands. He doesn’t want to think about all the moments he’s lost by travelling so much.

When Harry sees Niall’s name on his screen, he excuses himself to one of Louis’s guest bedrooms, because, quite frankly, he doesn’t want Louis and Liam to tease him for, as they say, his “Niall Face.”

“What’s up?” Harry asks, dumping himself on the bed. “I miss you.”

“It’s been one day—don’t be ridiculous,” Niall laughs, and Harry just smiles. He does have a knack for overreacting, but this is the first Saturday Harry hasn’t spent with Niall in more than a month, and he’s grown used to Niall’s presence. The only reason Harry isn’t plastered to his side this very minute is because Niall has some important things to do at work, or whatever. 

“You called me,” Harry responds, not unreasonably. “Who’s being ridiculous?”

“Ah, OK, just listen,” Niall laughs, sounding a little more focused. “I was just calling to say I’m gonna be real late tonight, but if you know where the key is, and, you know, you don’t _have_ to sleep over but—”

“I’ll crash with you tonight,” Harry assures him, scratching at his belly. “I like your bed better than mine.”

“OK, say ‘hey’ to the guys for me,” Niall says before signing off. “See ya.”

Harry hangs up and allows him a second for the smile to dissolve from his face before he gets himself together and makes his way back to the living room. 

“Harry, do you wanna play?” Freddie asks, jumping up from his place on the couch. “I gotta pee!”

“Sure,” Harry shrugs, laughing a little. “Take care of your business, pal.”

After Freddie bounds toward the bathroom, Harry takes his spot and grabs the controllers. He waits for Louis to start the game up again, and frowns when he doesn’t. He looks up and both Louis and Liam are staring at him.

“What?” Harry asks, already dreading the upcoming conversation.

“We haven’t seen you since the birthday party, Harry,” Liam starts, surprisingly. “What’s up?”

“Nothing’s up,” Harry laughs. “And should we be really talking about me? Freddie will be back any minute.”

“Oh, he’ll take forever,” Louis assures him, crossing his legs on the coffee table. “Now tell us about the longest relationship you’ve ever been in, young Harry.”

“Well, that’s just inaccurate,” Harry argues, tossing the controller aside. “What about Taylor? We dated for seven months.”

“And how many times did you break up within that time span?” Louis asks, raising a condescending brow.

“OK, well, what about Rohinder?” Harry sniffs haughtily.

“You guys were in two different continents for half of your relationship, Harry,” Louis points out, not unkindly.

“And you only dated for about three months,” Liam adds gently.

“Kendall?” Harry asks, resolve dying as soon as he says the name. The guys just look at him. “Niall and I haven’t been dating for long anyway, so I don’t understand what we need to talk about.”

“Maybe the fact that he’s the first person, maybe ever, that you got to _know_ before you slept with,” Louis suggests, and Liam nods in agreement. “And you might not have been having sex for that long, but you’ve been hanging out pretty exclusively with him for like, six months.”

“Just—can we not?” Harry snaps, surprisingly serious. “I don’t wanna talk about it—us—right now.”

“Afraid you might jinx it?” Liam suggests, and he’s got his sweet puppy face, so Harry can’t even bring himself to be offended.

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugs, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe? Whatever, it’s not even—”

“We’ll stay out of it,” Louis assures him, essentially ending the conversation. 

“Thanks,” Harry sighs and relaxes against the couch. 

“Are you happy, though?” Liam bursts out, seemingly unable to help himself.

Harry is.

~

Harry wakes up to faint movement on the bed. He breathes in and turns to his left, where Niall’s back is to him, and he’s bending down, probably to take off his shoes. 

“Hey,” Harry takes a deep breath in as he tries to blink awake. Niall turns to look at Harry. “Oh hey.”

“You’re home,” Harry mumbles, extending his arm to get his fingers around the hem of Niall’s sweater. “Missed you.”

“Hey, no, go back to sleep,” Niall laughs, leaning down to press a kiss against Harry’s cheek before he gets up. “I’ll be a minute, just go back to sleep, darlin’.”

“What time is it?” Harry croaks after Niall, who he hears rummaging through his drawers. 

“It’s late,” Niall whispers, closing a drawer. “Go back to sleep.”

Harry mumbles something he himself isn’t quite sure he understands and drags his hand toward the bedside table to grab his phone. When he unlocks it, he sees that it’s almost three in the morning. “What kept you so late, babe?”

“I was with the Nguyens,” Niall says, before stepping outside the bedroom. Harry groans again before turning over on his back. He hears the sink running, then a few minutes later Niall walks back into the room and frowns when he sees Harry hasn’t gone back to sleep. “What are you doing?”

“You don’t really talk about your job a lot, you know?” Harry mumbles against his pillow as Niall climbs into bed. 

“Yes, I do,” Niall mumbles back before pressing a quick kiss against Harry’s lips. 

“You talk about your days at work,” Harry concedes, shuffling closer so he can wrap his arms around Niall. “But I don’t think you really talk about your families.”

“Oh,” Harry can’t see Niall’s face, but that does not sound like a good ‘oh.’ 

“You don’t have to talk about them,” Harry assures him, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Niall’s back. “I just want you to feel like you can, I guess.”

“Thanks,” Niall says, then clears his throat. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry mumbles against Niall’s neck. “Are you tired?”

“Yeah,” Niall answers and takes a deep breath. “You ready to go back to sleep now?”

“Mmhmm,” Harry tangles his feet with Niall’s under the duvet. 

~

Harry doesn’t realize how much of his daily life revolves around Niall and the twins until they leave for a week during the twins’ spring break. They leave for Niall’s hometown for the week, and Harry doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he rents a car and spends the week in Los Angeles. 

While he’s there, he goes into his web magazine’s offices, where he meets with his editor. He only really expects to do a progress report of sorts, so when Marilyn suggests a piece for him to work on, he’s a little taken aback. He doesn’t have time to pitch anything before she brings up the possibility of Harry spending a few weeks at a Croatian village in order to write about their local cuisine. Harry has always wanted to go to Croatia, and the opportunity is almost too good to pass up, but he stops himself before he can give her a definite answer.

He tells her he’ll think about it, and he plans on spending the week in L.A. catching up with friends, but he gets bored after two days, and most of his friends are busy with work or off on vacation, so he plans to get back home on Wednesday night. When he’s packing his things back into his bag, he gets a random text from his friend, Ben, who asks him if he wants to have dinner with his family that night. 

“We’ve missed you around here,” Meredith, Ben’s wife tells him as she’s scooping some sweet potatoes on his plate. “Colin's been waiting on your visits for a while.”

“I missed this beautiful boy,” Harry says just as Colin settles himself under the table. “But I’ve been quite busy, you know, with the baby and work and stuff.”

“Oh, did Gemma get our gifts?” Meredith asks, digging into her own food.

“Yeah, she loved all the onesies,” Harry assures her. “But at the rate Lucas is growing, they might not fit him much longer.”

“I knew I should have bought a variety of sizes,” she sighs, but she smiles sweetly at Harry. They continue to ask him questions about Gemma and the baby and everything that Harry’s been doing for the past six months. 

“I never thought I’d say this, but I kind of miss you crashing in our spare room,” Ben says, and Harry rolls his eyes, a smile on his face. “Where do you think you’ll go next? Seems like Gemma and Mark have things under control, no?”

“You know,” Harry clears his throat, straightening his napkin on his lap. “They might still need my help for a bit longer.” 

“Yeah?” Meredith asks, then takes a sip of her glass of red wine. “I thought you said he was an easy baby.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“And didn’t you want to backpack through Mexico this year?” Ben asks before taking a bite of food. “You wanted to start your book or something like that.”

“Oh, that was never a real plan,” Harry says, waving that old plan off like he hadn’t spent an entire three day period researching the most tourist-friendly places throughout Mexico. 

“Well, if you think so,” Ben shoots him a smile before taking a drink of beer. “It sounded like an interesting idea, though.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry shrugs, and goes back to his food. He hasn’t thought about Mexico in months. He hasn’t thought about post-baby life much, either, to be honest. He supposes he’s got to start pretty soon, though. 

Harry decides to stay the night at Ben and Meredith’s, sleeping curled up against Colin on the new guest bed. He sends Niall a selfie of him and Colin, and he gets a selfie of Niall smiling with the twins in return. Harry sends back a _See you soon xx_ and Niall responds with a line of kissing emojis and another line of blushing emojis. Harry can’t help but smile and snuggle closer to Colin.

~

“I think you should do it,” Gemma says when he tells her about the potential work trip. “It sounds super fun. When do you leave?”

“Well, I’d be leaving at the tail-end of April,” Harry explains, eyes trailing after Gemma as she paces slowly around the living room, rocking little baby Lucas in her arms. “I’d spend about a week there and come back on the first week of May.”

“That’s exciting,” Gemma says absentmindedly, taking a seat next to him on the couch. “Bring me tons of souvenirs. What do they even have in Croatia?”

“That’s if I go,” Harry mumbles, holding his right index finger in front of Lucas’s face to see if he’ll take it. 

“Why wouldn’t you go?” Gemma asks, readjusting Lucas in her arms.

“Won’t you need me here?” Harry looks up at her, finger still in Lucas’s little hand.

“Not really,” Gemma snorts out a laugh. “Don’t get me wrong, you’ve been a Godsend. It’s just that I think we can get along without you from now on. You don’t have to pass this up for our sake, you know?” Harry doesn’t have a response for that, but she seems to interpret his silence when she says, knowingly, “Unless it’s not for our sake.”

He doesn’t have a response for that, not really, because the realization that he’s making long-term plans with Niall and his family in mind. He’s never had to think of anyone but himself when he planned trips, abroad or otherwise, but now, well. Things have changed, and he doesn’t know how to feel about that.

“This is all super new to you, huh?” Gemma says, an amused note in her voice. “Your nomad lifestyle’s changing, little brother.”

“I guess it is,” Harry mumbles, and unlocks his phone to go over the e-mail his editor had sent him.

He doesn’t want to think of the implications of that, however, so instead of dwelling on the decision that he has to make throughout the week, he ignores it and takes a nap.

~

Thankfully, Niall and the kids get back that Sunday, and Harry spends that night listening to the twins’ nonstop stories about their grandparents and their extended family. After they put the kids to bed, Harry spends some more time going through a ton of video Niall took of the twins throughout the week. They’re watching a documentary about bird migration, and Niall is genuinely riveted, and Harry feels a bit guilty about pulling his attention away from the TV.

“So I met with my boss when I was in L.A.,” Harry says, putting his tablet up on the coffee table.

“You went to L.A.?” Niall asks, looking up from the TV. “When did you go to L.A.?”

“Um, the day after you left?” Harry shrugs, suddenly embarrassed by his lack of honesty. “Sorry, I—”

“Hey, you don’t have to apologize,” Niall says, looking down at his lap. “It’s not—You don’t have to tell me everything you do.”

“But I want to,” Harry blurts out. “Or at least the important bits. And this bit’s important.”

“Yeah?” Niall asks, and finally he looks up, and he looks skeptical, but there’s the promise of a smile peeking through his features.

“She offered me this really great gig,” Harry explains. “One of her other lifestyle writers pitched it to her, but they ran into some scheduling conflicts, so now I’m doing it.”

“What’s the gig?” Niall asks, fiddling with the hem of his sweat shorts. 

“It’s just like,” Harry looks down at his lap and clears his throat. “I’d just be going to Croatia for a few weeks, try out their cuisine and write about it and stuff.”

“And stuff?” Niall snorts, and he seems to shake some of the weight he’d put on a few minutes earlier in order to put on a tentative smile.

“Stuff and things,” Harry elaborates, and Niall rolls his eyes but a tentative smile starts playing on his face. 

“When would you leave?” Niall sighs, crawling the length of the couch to finally snuggle against Harry.

“At the end of April,” Harry mumbles, pressing his lips against the crown of Niall’s head. “Back before you know it.”

“You’ll be missing the twins’ birthday,” Niall says, and he doesn’t sound upset at Harry, just somewhat disappointed. “But I guess we can celebrate early…” Harry frowns down at Niall’s abrupt pause and the way he’s pulling himself upright and away from Harry’s body. “Or, like, obviously it doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does,” Harry insists, but Niall shuffles a little farther anyway. “Sure, we’ll celebrate early, if we can.”

“You don't have to do that,” Niall mumbles, and by the way he’s fiddling with his fingers Harry can tell he’s trying his hardest not to chew on his nails. 

“I know, but I want to,” Harry insists. “I mean, I don’t even want to go—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Niall snorts derisively. “You’re gonna go.”

“Well, I don’t wanna go if it’ll upset you,” Harry argues, to which Niall responds with a roll of his eyes. “Why are you being like this? What’s the matter?” Harry asks, sitting up and scooching forward so he can run his fingers through Niall’s soft hair. 

Niall’s body deflates when he lets out a long and tired sigh. “Sorry,” he leans his head against the back of the couch, and Harry doesn’t stop scratching at his head. “I just—It’s March.”

“Yes, it’s been March for eight days,” Harry can’t help the teasing tone that colors his voice. “You have a calendar on almost every room of the house, I’m surprised you’d forgotten.”

“What I mean is,” Niall turns to face Harry, and he’s got a line between his brows. “I never asked, but how long did you mean to stay with Gemma?”

“We never really had a deadline,” Harry sighs, shifting around so he can get his head on Niall’s lap. “Been kind of taking it one day at a time so far.”

“Don’t you think you should start thinking about it?” Niall looks down and starts running his hands through Harry’s hair. Harry tries to think of a response when Niall’s hand stops moving and his expression turns curious. “Harry, where did you live before you came to stay with Gemma?”

“Here and there,” Harry answers, dragging Niall’s hand so he can start playing with his fingers. “My dad’s got a place in L.A. so I crash there pretty often, but a lot of the time I couch surf with friends and stuff.”

“That’s…” Niall trails off, and when Harry frowns up at him, he looks like he can’t make up his mind about whether what Harry’s just said is good or not. 

“Do you think it’s weird, Niall?” Harry asks, running his thumb gently over Niall’s knuckles. 

“It’s a little confusing to me, I’ll be honest,” Niall admits, and he lets out a long breath of air. “Not that it’s a bad thing, you know. I just like having a home, you know? I don’t think I could live like you, is all.”

“I suppose a nomadic lifestyle isn’t ideal for raising children,” Harry comments idly, trying to ignore the way his heart clenches uncomfortably. 

“I suppose it isn’t,” Niall concedes, a thoughtful frown forming on his face. “And I suppose it suits you well enough.”

“Well maybe it doesn’t,” Harry sits back up, runs a hand through his hair. “Maybe I’ve gotten used to staying still.”

“You don’t have to say things just to make me happy,” Niall frowns, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t expect anything from you, all right?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asks, suddenly hurt.

“Just that you’re not obligated to do things for—for us—” Niall explains haltingly, growing agitated. “I think I’ve gotten carried away with the whole ‘playing house’ thing, but I think you ought to understand that I don’t—you know, I don’t want you to feel obligated to—to stay here. With us.”

“I know I’m not obligated, but—” 

“No, you have to understand,” Niall moving forward to grab Harry’s hands in his. “If you’re gonna leave, that’s fine, just…You gotta tell me, OK? You gotta let me know, so I can tell the kids and—”

“I don’t want to leave,” Harry admits, and it’s the first time he’s said it out loud, the first time he’s voiced the desire he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. “I want—I want to stay, I think. I really like how this is going, Niall.”

Niall’s face slowly transforms into a tentative smile. “Yeah?” Harry just nods and leans in to kiss Niall swiftly on the lips. “I like where this is going too.”

Smile mirroring Niall’s, Harry brings Niall’s hand to his lips so he can press a soft kiss to his knuckles. “In any case, couch surfing isn’t exactly great for my back.”

~

After their talk, things don’t exactly go back to the way they were, things have changed between them, but Harry finds that the new dynamic they’re developing might be good in a different way. They’re in a new place now, and it’s taking Harry some time to adjust, but Niall has made it so easy. Not for the first time, Harry is grateful for him, and he finds a pretty clever way to reward him.

“What do you think?” Harry asks, stepping back into Niall’s bedroom after being in the bathroom for a good fifteen minutes.

When Niall looks up to where Harry has begun stretching in a way he thinks is seductive at the foot of the bed, he actually, for the first time, doesn’t look like he’s about to make fun of Harry. For once, he looks speechless.

“You nerd,” Harry says, gleeful look overtaking his face. “I knew this would turn you on!”

“Shut up,” Niall clears his throat, trying to school his face into a less awestruck expression. “You’re the one that wanted to do this.”

“I know, but I like to see you squirm,” Harry admits, climbing on the bed. “Now tell me, stud,” Harry pauses, taking out the gun strapped to his thigh. “Who shoots first?”

“This is the most ridiculous thing in the world,” Niall mumbles, climbing up so he’s on his knees facing Harry. His eyes travel down to his trousers, which are a bit too tight on Harry’s body, up to his white shirt that’s open to reveal Harry’s tattoos and lack of chest hair, and finally to Harry’s pleased smirk. “But this is really doing it for me right now.”

“Come on, Horan,” Harry gasps, pulling Niall roughly flush against his own body. “We gotta get outta here before the Romulans find us.”

“Well, OK,” Niall’s face falls, and he pushes away from Harry. “If you don't understand the canon—”

“God, just get on me, nerd,” Harry groans, pulling Niall roughly over him on the bed. “These pants aren’t gonna hold together much longer, so the sooner you rip ‘em off me the better.”

“They’re still my pants,” Niall grumbles, working on Harry’s flies. “I’m not tearing them just for the sake of roleplaying.” 

“Romance is dead,” Harry sighs dramatically. “And here I thought this could be a chance to reignite the spark of our relationship.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Niall pulls Harry’s pants down his thighs. “You’re not wearing underpants? Unhygienic.” 

Harry props himself up on his elbows to give Niall a deadpan stare. “You eat me out but _that_ is unhygienic?”

“You don’t get it,” Niall mumbles against the skin of Harry’s tummy. “You wear underwear like twenty percent of the time.”

“That’s highly offensive,” Harry says, pulling Niall up so he can go back to mouthing at his neck. “I don’t complain about how you wear your clothes.”

“That’s because I dress appropriately,” Niall says, working a hand along Harry’s length, which elicits a really embarrassing moan from Harry. “I cover what needs to be covered.”

“I’ll cover you with what needs to be covered,” Harry sniggers, and Niall pulls back to give him an unimpressed look. “Well if you want me to stop talking, you’re gonna have to shut me up, aren’t you?”

Niall’s annoyed expression shifts and, without warning, Harry finds himself on his back with Niall flush above him.

“Let’s find a way to shut you up, then,” Niall says, and Harry feels a long shiver roll up his spine.

~

The first person he talks to about his new plans is, surprisingly, Liam. 

Or, perhaps not surprisingly, because Liam is a real estate agent, and, since he works mostly within the city proper, he’ll most likely have something Harry would like. Liam is good at his job, but he’s not very good at nuance, and it really shouldn’t be surprising that he approaches the subject with less tact than Harry would be comfortable with.

“Why don’t you just move in with Niall?” Liam asks, taking a bite of his burger. 

“What?” Harry asks and starts coughing after he chokes on a leaf of lettuce. “Liam, _what_?”

“What?” Liam looks completely unfazed by Harry’s obvious discomfort. “You guys have been together for like six months.”

“No, we haven’t,” Harry says, running a hand through his hair. “We started dating in January, Liam.”

“Well, _officially_ , duh,” Liam says, rolling his eyes. “But, come on…” Liam raises his eyebrows suggestively. “But you guys have been pretty into each other for a while, haven’t you?”

“What are you talking about?” Harry asks, taking a long gulp of water. 

“I don’t know,” Liam says between chews of his fries. “Zayn used to tell us about how you guys spent so much time together, and honestly we kind of expected you guys to get together before Christmas.”

“You were talking about us?” Harry asks, and he can feel the left eye twitch that only happens when he is starting to get angry.

“Come on, not constantly,” Liam assures him. “Just as a sidenote, you know. And we didn’t want to bother you about it, ‘cause it wasn’t our business. I’m glad you’re together, though, because he makes you really happy.”

“Um,” Harry clears his throat and looks down at his food. “Thank you, Liam.”

“And I think he likes you a lot, too,” Liam continues. “But I guess if you’re planning on staying for a while, an apartment would be a good idea.”

“Yeah, um,” Harry nods. “I am staying. For a while.”

“Good,” Liam smiles, and goes back to eating his burger. Harry smiles back and picks up his fork to continue eating his delicious salad before his phone starts ringing on the table.

“Why is Louis calling me?” Harry asks, and Liam just shrugs and takes a drink of beer. Harry narrows his eyes at him but answers the phone anyway. 

“You’re moving in with Niall?” Louis snaps as soon as Harry presses his phone to his ear.

“No, I’m—How did you—” Harry shoots Liam a death glare.

“Liam just texted me.” Liam shrugs again.

“You two are insufferable.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis snaps and he’s most likely running his eyes. “Now tell me what in the world you think you’re doing.”

Harry heaves a deep and weary sigh.

~

After he’s let Louis yell at him about how he has to take things seriously, and after he’s gone with Liam to see a few apartments in the city, he goes to Niall’s.

It’s three in the afternoon, so Niall is still at work, but lately that hasn’t deterred Harry from just hanging around the house to write or just hang out on his own. 

He takes a moment to tidy up around the living room a little, arranging some stuff on the coffee table, putting away a few toys, fluffing a few throw pillows. He’s a bit restless, truth be told, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself at the moment. 

The trip wouldn’t be a big deal, he thinks. All things considered, Niall is a pretty laid back guy, and he would be pretty cool about Harry leaving for about a month, especially since it’s for his job. That’s not what’s worrying Harry, if he’s being honest with himself. What he’s freaking out about, and he feels almost crazy for it, is that he’s worried about it at all.

Gemma was right, and he has become pretty comfortable with his nomadic lifestyle. He thought that was the way he’d be spending his life, or at least the majority of his thirties. But his hesitance to just up and leave for an assignment is making him realize that maybe living with attachments—specifically people who depend on him—is something he could get used to as well. 

He tries to push it off his mind by focusing on work, and it mostly works, but when he hears a car pull up in front of the house, his heart does a weird jump. 

“—and then I kicked the ball super hard and we won the game!” Harry hears Annie talking in an animated tone.

“That’s amazing, petal,” Niall hums, and when Harry turns to fully look at them walk through the door, he notices something peculiar.

“Oh, sweetness,” Harry laughs, standing up. “You’ve scabbed your knee.”

“I know!” Annie looks exasperated, as if she’s been told this over and over all day. “I fell when I was running to second base.”

“Does it hurt, sugar?” Harry asks, bending down to inspect her knee.

Annie shakes her head ‘no’ and she looks proud of herself for that. “I didn’t even cry, Harry.”

“I went with her to the nurse’s,” Robbie says, jumping up to get Harry’s attention. 

Laughing, Harry runs hand down Annie’s face and turns his attention to Robbie. “Did you really?”

The afternoon goes along that way, with the twins talking about school and Harry asking Niall questions about work. He finds himself diverting the conversation from himself and his own day without really meaning to, but he’s perfectly happy just listening to the twins ramble on about their classes. 

Soon enough though, Niall is shepherding the twins to the dining room table so they can start on their homework.

“Hey, you wanna help me start dinner?” Niall asks, squeezing Harry’s hip lightly as he makes his way toward the kitchen.

“What’s on the menu?” Harry asks lightly, absentmindedly ruffling the twins’ hair as he walks toward the kitchen. Niall is taking some vegetables out of the refrigerator, and Harry takes the opportunity to drape himself over his back.

“Get off, idiot,” Niall laughs, shutting the fridge closed and moving on to the freezer. “You’re heavy.”

“No, I’m not,” Harry mumbles against Niall’s neck. 

“You’re annoying,” Niall amends, closing the freezer and shuffling toward the kitchen counter. “Come on.”

“I’m not letting go until you give me a proper snuggle,” Harry takes an opportunity to turn Niall around so he can hug him properly. “You smell good.”

“I smell like office,” Niall protests, but he wraps his arms around Harry’s torso.

“Stop talking and kiss me,” Harry mumbles and Niall snorts derisively but pulls back to press a quick kiss on Harry’s lips. Niall is about to pull back when Harry grabs his face in his hands to deepen the kiss, and well, they make out for a minute or two. 

The kids talk animatedly all through dinner, distracting Harry even further from any thoughts of his job. Eventually, they get tired of talking about school and their friends and start asking Harry and Niall whatever random questions about whatever pops into their heads. Harry spends a good hour answering questions about his bird tattoos on his clavicles, how horses sleep, and whether Niall would let them go to space without a chaperone.

“You can’t go to space all alone,” Niall says, laughter dancing in his eyes. “It’s dangerous, babies.”

“But we would be _big_ , papi,” Annie argues, exasperated by her father. She’s swinging her arms around her, fork clumsily held in her hand. Laughing quietly, Harry takes her fork gently from her little hand. “When you’re big you don’t need your mami and papi with you.”

“Yeah!” Robbie agrees, bouncing up and down a little in his booster seat. “When you’re big you can do _anything_ you wanna do.”

“So you wouldn’t want your mami and papi up there with you?” Niall asks, in a faux disappointed tone. “We could see the stars up close together.”

Harry sees the twins’ expressions change from the steely resolve only little kids can muster up into doubtful frowns. 

“Well,” Annie starts, face contorting in thought. “I guess you can come.”

“You know all the stars and stuff,” Robbie adds.

“You’ll let me come with you guys, then?” Nialll asks, smile growing in his face.

“You and mami can come,” Annie nods. “And Harry has to come too.”

“I’m invited?” Harry asks, genuinely surprised and somewhat excited about this fictional scenario.

“Well, _yeah_ ,” Annie says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“If papi goes, you gotta go!” Robbie explains, and proceeds to spear another cubed carrot with his fork.

~

“I don’t want to miss their birthday,” Harry mumbles, apropos nothing, that night a few minutes after they’ve turned the lights out to get to sleep.

“Hmm?” Niall hums, shifting around so he can drape his right arm around Harry’s middle. 

“Sorry, never mind,” Harry whispers, running a hand through Niall’s forearm. “Go back to sleep.”

Niall squeezes Harry’s torso before he rubs his face against his pillow, and soon enough, his breathing evens out in sleep.

~

A few days after that, Harry finds himself on Niall’s couch, in his underwear in the middle of the afternoon, responding to some e-mails and munching on some goji berries but really thinking about the kids’ confiscated bag of gummy bears on the top shelf in the kitchen. He’s talking himself out of grabbing the gummy bears when he hears the door start unlocking. Before he has time to even sit up, the door opens and Alma steps inside.

She doesn’t notice Harry at first, but when she turns after closing the door behind herself, she lets out a shocked sound and covers her face with her hands, a task made harder with all the bags she’s holding. 

“I’m not naked!” Harry blurts out, standing up quickly. Belatedly, he rather uselessly tries to cover his lower bottom half with his hands. “Uh.”

“ _What are you doing just standing there_?” she yells, and he rushes to the bedroom to grab some clothes.

When he walks back into the living room, he finds Alma sitting on his previously occupied spot on the couch, taking out clothes from the bags and folding them next to her. “So, what, you just spend your days lounging around naked in my children’s home?”

“Uhh…” Harry says, intelligently. “No?”

“Well,” is all she says, looking down at her the work she’s doing. She looks pretty pissed. 

“Niall didn’t mention you’d be swinging by,” Harry says lightly, sitting on the armchair, as far from her as is polite when he’s trying to entertain a guest. “I would have dressed up for you.”

“I just came to drop these off,” she responds shortly. “Didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

“Yeah, uh,” Harry clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. He doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong, and he doesn’t understand why Alma seems so angry. “I just come here sometimes, I guess. I’m like a dog—I’m just waiting for the humans to get home.”

“So you’ve moved in, then?” Alma asks, finally looking up to fix him a look that Harry can only really describe as confrontational. “The kids talk about all the sleepovers you’ve been having lately.”

“Oh,” Harry picks his knees up and curls against the chair, trying his hardest to get as small as possible. “I thought Niall had talked to you about us.”

“He did!” Alma says, nodding somewhat frantically. “He said he likes you a lot and that you’ve been spending a lot of time together. He said you’re great with the kids, and he feels like he can really trust you. And he told me you’re looking for places in the city.”

“Well, that’s great,” Harry says dumbly. “That he, uh, shared that with you?”

Closing her eyes, Alma takes a deep breath before she opens her mouth to speak again. “Harry, I like you,” she tells him, although the intense look in her eyes contradicts her words. “But, speaking as the last person who broke Niall’s heart into a million little pieces, I don’t trust you.”

“Right,” Harry mumbles, running his cross necklace on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry, what is going on right now? You were the one that wanted Niall to start dating again.”

“I know!” Alma says, exasperated. “But I didn’t think it would turn into—into whatever this is. And yeah, I saw the way you guys were with each other, and I honestly expected you guys to hook up eventually.” Harry huffs and she shoots him an incredulous look. “But one day he’s talking about how you finally slept together and the next he’s telling me you’re talking about your future here?”

“If this is about the twins—” Harry starts, his heart sinking at the mere thought of doing anything to harm the kids.

“It’s about my family, Harry,” Alma concedes, but she seems gentler now. “And Niall is a part of it, for better or worse.” She lets out a tired and shaky sigh, and Harry can see her eyes start to get misty. “You can’t break his heart, OK? He doesn’t deserve that.”

“Alma,” Harry says, moving closer to her. “I’m not…I can’t promise you anything, because I can’t predict the future, but, with all due respect, I’m not you. And anyway, you should give him a little more credit.”

“He is the best man I know, Harry,” Alma says, voice shaky. “God, and the twins…If I can prevent the twins from getting their lives turned upside down again, I’ll do whatever I can.”  
“I don’t want to hurt them,” Harry says plainly.

“I know you don’t,” Alma sighs. “But like you said, we can’t predict the future, can we?”

“No, we can’t,” Harry agrees. “And I haven’t been in a long-term relationship before, but this feels…promising. And I’ll be the first person to admit that I fall in and out of love at the drop of a hat, but…this doesn’t feel like love at first sight—it feels like something sustainable, you know?” 

“Yeah,” Alma laughs, expression going soft and wistful. “OK, I’m sorry for overreacting.”

Harry can’t help the laugh that bubbles up his throat.

“But you get it, right?” Alma says, not unkindly. “I have to protect my family.”

“I get it,” Harry assures her, fiddling with a hole on his jeans. “Why did you let him go?” Harry blurts out, immediately regretting his tactless outburst. She doesn’t seem offended, however, and she doesn’t immediately start yelling at him. 

“We just don’t suit each other that way,” Alma sighs, looking down at her lap. “Niall is a wonderful person, and I don’t think I could have chosen a better guy to knock me up at twenty-two.” She lets out a shaky breath. “But he’s not perfect. He can be really closed off at times, which I just don’t have the patience to deal with—that’s not who I am. By the end of it, I resented him so much, I almost started hating him.”

“I can’t imagine you guys fighting,” Harry admits with a short laugh. “You’re so good together.”

“We’re good now,” Alma says. “But you should have seen us two years ago. I almost stabbed him in the neck with a fork once.”

“I don’t understand that,” Harry mumbles, running a hand through his hair. “Whenever I look at him I wanna wrap him up in blankets and kiss his nose over and over again.”

She snorts, but her face turns a little serious. “You know…it’s not always gonna be good.”

“I know.” Harry runs a hand through his hair. “

~

Harry doesn’t tend to make promises he can’t keep, but he doesn’t tend to make promises in general. He doesn’t consider himself untrustworthy or unreliable, but promises tend to carry with them the implication of future commitments, and he’s not very good at planning ahead. He doesn’t promise his friends he’ll do specific things with them, instead he punctuates his goodbyes with simple _I’ll see you soon_ ’s that allow for some wiggle room. He’s always got an escape route.

He doesn’t realize how much this behavior is ingrained in his personality until he sits down to look for apartments in the city, and he realizes that this is the first time he’s really considered living anywhere for an extended period of time since he graduated college. 

It was an impetuous decision, he realizes, implying to Niall that he would stay put for the foreseeable future. But he’d meant it, he truly had, at least at the time, and it still feels quite real and true for himself at the moment, but it also feels scarier than he expected. He never considered the possibility that his constant mobility had been anything other than something he wanted. Now it’s starting to look like it’s the only thing he’s good at.

He hasn’t talked to Gemma or his parents about it, hasn’t asked his friends for advice, and he hasn’t even sent out a cryptic tweet about the situation. He’s going through some very dramatic internal turmoil, and, seeing as Niall isn’t stupid, he notices.

“Hey,” Niall says, walking into his bedroom where Harry is lying on the bed in only his boxers looking through Zillow on his tablet. “I just dropped the twins off with Al.”

“Cool,” Harry mumbles absentmindedly, vaguely registering the bed shifting with Niall’s weight as he sits down. “Just let me bookmark this before you take anything off. I wanna try to unbutton your shirt with my teeth again.”

“Do you mind if we table that for a bit?” Niall asks, running a hand down Harry’s calf, which elicits some goose bumps and that familiar pull in the bottom of his belly. “I thought we could go out.”

Locking his tablet, Harry shifts around to wrap himself around Niall. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Just a nice restaurant, if you want,” Niall mumbles and presses a kiss on Harry’s clavicle, right over one of the birds. “Just feel like showing you off a bit.”

Harry blushes and presses his hands against Niall’s wrinkled shirt, trying to smooth it out a little. “You don’t need to butter me up, Niall. I’m good to go.”

“I just like making you feel good,” Niall mumbles as if it’s the simplest thing to say, and Harry can feel the blood rushing to his head. “There’s nothing wrong with that is there?”

“Yeah,” Harry lets out a choked off laugh. “If you keep talking like that I’m gonna tear this shirt into shreds, babe.”

“Let’s get you dressed then,” Niall laughs, but the way he kisses Harry long and filthy contradict his words. Harry whines when Niall pulls back, and he reluctantly stands up to grab some clothes. 

It’s about two hours later, and Niall had insisted on them driving to the city for dinner. They’re waiting to get a table at the bar, and Harry’s running a finger idly on the brim of his glass when Niall breaks their comfortable silence. 

“I’ve noticed you acting a little funny,” Niall starts, and Harry can’t help the way his face falls from the placid smile he’s had for a few hours. Noticing these changes, he places a hand on Harry’s shoulder and squeezing before pulling it back. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Harry can’t help the way his heart clenches at Niall’s concern, but he waves it off with a flap of his hand. “I’m quite all right, Niall. I just haven’t really done the renting business in some time, and I’m re-learning some stuff. Nothing to concern ourselves with.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll tell you when I feel overwhelmed.” 

“I talked to Alma,” Niall finally admits, and Harry can’t help the laugh that comes out. “Hey, I’m sorry—”

“Hey, no,” Harry brings a hand up to run his thumb down Niall’s cheekbone. “I needed that conversation, you know? Really put things in perspective for me.”

“Yeah?” Niall says, turning his face to press a kiss against Harry’s palm. “So you’re going to Croatia for work?”

“Yeah,” Harry sighs, and Niall’s smile grows. “But I’m coming back. Liam is showing me some more apartments next week.”

“That sounds good, babe,” Niall leans in to press a kiss against Harry’s lips.

Harry hums against Niall’s lips. “Are you too hungry for me to convince you to the bathroom with me for a quickie?”

“You’re gross,” Niall says, but the smile doesn’t live his face.

“I am gross,” Harry agrees and pulls Niall in for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen i know and i'm sorry but i've been sick for the past six weeks and that was a REAL bummer but it's HERE antyways i appreciate all the anonymous messages on my tumb (i really do not being funny) keep sending them i'll keep writing anyway whoo! almost at the end you guysssss


	8. nothing else will do

The first Monday of April finds Harry putting down a deposit for a studio apartment thirty minutes away from Niall and Gemma’s neighborhood. 

It’s a bit of a spur of the moment decision, and two hours after that he’s still frowning at nothing when Niall walks into his living room with the twins in tow.

“Harry!” The twins struggle to take off their shoes before running over to climb on his lap. They talk over each other trying to tell Harry about their day, as usual, and Niall lets them go through the daily ritual while he goes to his room for a few minutes. 

“Let’s go play horse,” Robbie orders, getting up from Harry’s lap. “You haven’t played in a million years.”

“He always plays with _you_ ,” Annie huffs, staying put on Harry’s lap. “He don’t played dolls with me.”

“Well,” Harry gently lifts Annie from his lap and onto the floor. “We’ll have to find a compromise then.”

“What’s that?” Annie asks, blinking owlishly at Harry, who only blinks back, suddenly stupid.

“It’s a solution,” Niall says, walking back into the living room. “But where both of you give a little bit up in order to make it work.”

“Huh?” Annie turns a confused expression toward Niall. 

“Can I have a snack?” Robbie asks, seemingly unbothered by his sister’s questions. “I want my gummy worms.”

“Um,” Harry stands up and hesitates. “Maybe not right now, buddy.”

“Why not,” Robbie asks, a little line forming between his eyebrows when he looks up at Harry. “They’re mine.”

“Well, see, petal,” Niall says, running a hand through her messy hair. “Robbie wants to eat all his candy right now, but if he does, he’ll be too full for dinner and he’ll get a stomach ache.”

“Nuh uh,” Robbie shakes his head.

“So a compromise would be,” Niall continues, “he eats, say, five gummy worms right now and saves the rest for later.”

“OK,” Annie nods, but the same line forms between her eyebrows. “I got it.”

“But I want more than five,” Robbie argues, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“You’ll get a tummy ache if you have too many,” Harry reminds him, not unkindly.

“No I will not,” Robbie says, confidently. “I don’t get sick.”

“Whatever,” Niall laughs, grabbing the bag from a cupboard and handing them to Robbie, who digs in immediately. “But if you don’t eat every bite of your dinner, you’re in trouble.”

Robbie only shrugs, and before Harry knows it, Annie drags Robbie to their room to play. 

“There goes our playdate,” Harry mumbles, but Niall’s gone back into his room, and he’s alone in the kitchen.

“Niall,” Harry says as he steps inside Niall’s bedroom, where Niall is just pulling his USC sweatshirt over his head. He’s already changed into sweatpants, and he looks cozy enough that Harry just wants to forget what had just happened. “Hey.”

“What’s up?” Niall asks, cuffing the sleeves of his sweatshirt a little around his delicate wrists. 

“You haven’t kissed me yet,” Harry says, walking up to stand in front of Niall. He raises his eyebrows expectantly. Niall huffs out a short laugh and presses a chaste kiss against Harry’s lips. It’s not a long or deep enough kiss for Harry’s taste, but it’ll do.

“How was that?” Niall asks, sitting on the bed to cuff the ends of his sweats as well. 

“It’ll do for now,” Harry shrugs before running a hand through his hair. 

“Sorry,” Niall laughs shortly, lying down and propping his head on his hand. “How was your day?”

“It was fine,” Harry says, mirroring Niall’s position on the bed.

“Was it?” Niall asks, rubbing his nose against the bedspread.

“I put the deposit down today,” Harry says, dragging a hand up to place it on Niall’s cheek.

“Really,” Niall says, and Harry hums. “That's—OK, yeah.”

“’OK, yeah’ – contain your excitement, please.” Harry frowns. Niall won’t meet his eyes. “You’re acting funny.”

“No, I’m not,” Niall sits up, running a hand nervously through his hair. “It’s just—didn’t you just look at apartments last week?”

“Yeah, so?” Harry asks, growing annoyed. “I picked one, and I’ll move in next month.”

“Just like that?” Niall asks, voice growing hysterical. “You just picked it?”

“Don’t be weird,” Harry says. “Niall, what’s going on?”

“I think I’m freaking out,” Niall admits, standing up, and Harry watches him start to pace nervously. “But I don’t know why I’m freaking out.”

“Yes, you do,” Harry says calmly.

“When I picked the kids up today,” Niall blurts out, “their grandmother, she reminded me about Easter coming up and stuff.”

When Niall pauses, a reluctant frown forming on his face, Harry gestures for him to get back to bed with him.

“Long story short,” Niall continues, walking back to the bed and lying down and mirroring Harry’s position. “You’re officially invited to Alma’s family’s Easter brunch.” 

“Oh,” Harry says simply, and falls on his back on the bed. “When is Easter?”

“It falls on the fifteenth this year,” Niall says, sitting up so Harry can’t see the expression on his face. “And, you know, it’s gonna be really overwhelming—pretty much all of Alma’s family is gonna be there, and as soon as you step through those doors, they’ll be all over you with their—with their questions, and…stuff.”

“Do you want me to come?” Harry asks.

“I don't know,” Niall admits. “Sure, Alma insists and she says it’s a good idea—to help her family move on from the fantasy of us getting back together. But what if…”

“What if they’re not OK with us?” Harry supplies, and Niall turns to give him a confused look. “What?”

“What?” Niall starts, then his face changes in recognition. “Oh, not that. I mean, maybe that, sure, but…that’s not really what I’m worried about, I don’t think.”

“Then what is it?” Harry asks, scooching forward so he can wrap his arms around Niall’s belly. “Are you embarrassed of me?” 

“Of course I am,” Niall says, and Harry lightly bites his shoulder. “But I’m not worried that they won’t like you—everybody likes you.” Harry can’t help but smile against Niall’s skin. “But I’m worried that if they see me with someone new, they’ll…they’ll realize that I’m not really family anymore, I guess.”

“But you are their family,” Harry reminds him, shifting a little so he’s facing Niall head on while still holding onto his torso. “You’re still the twins’ father—that won’t change.”

“I know, but—” Harry presses his palm against Niall’s mouth before he can say anything else. 

“Don’t say another word,” Harry orders and struggles to climb onto Niall’s lap. “I’ll go if you want me to go. The rest of it, we worry about later.”

Some, not all, of the tension in Niall’s body drains out of him, and Harry presses a kiss against Niall’s nose. “Thanks,” Niall say shortly before clearing his throat. “I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Harry sighs. “And on the interest of full disclosure, how exactly are you introducing me to your family?”

“Uh,” Niall says, and immediately his expression shutters off into his very unique blend of worried and confused.

“My emotionally constipated darling,” Harry jokes and presses a series of kisses against Niall’s cheeks. 

~

That Friday, Louis and Liam convince Harry to bring Niall and Zayn along for a Guys’ Night, since Freddie is with his mom and Louis doesn’t have to go into work on Saturday. Zayn sleeps through the car ride to Liam’s place.

“How about Dave and Buster’s?” Liam suggests.

“No offense,” Zayn says, putting his glass down after taking a drink. “But if I wanted to spend my night playing arcade games I’d take my daughter to Chuck E. Cheese.”

“Like you don’t love Chuck E. Cheese,” Louis rolls his eyes, and Zayn just shrugs, because he does.

“I get that, though,” Niall admits, running a finger around the rim of his glass of Guinness. “Playing games for prizes stops being super fun when you’re of a certain age.”

“What if I wanna win you a giant stuffed animal?” Harry asks Niall, leaning obnoxiously against his side. 

“And what would I do with such a thing?” Niall asks, leaning right against Harry.

“You could sleep with it at night while I’m gone,” Harry suggests, and Niall rolls his eyes but bites at Harry’s nose playfully.

“You guys are gross,” Louis says, but his eyes are smiling. “OK, we’ll figure out what to do after another round.” And with that decided, he raises his hand to call the waitress back to their table.

“What about Top Golf?” Harry suggests, a round and a half later.

“ _No_!” Liam, Louis, and Zayn almost yell in unison at that.

“What’s wrong with Top Golf?” Niall asks, indignant on Harry’s behalf.

“Nothing, usually,” Zayn says.

“But playing with you two is like a weird pre-sex ritual,” Louis expands. “The last time we went to Top Golf, poor Liam found you two dry-humping in his car.”

“I’m fine,” Liam says, but the look in his eyes suggests that he’ll never be.

“Sorry, Liam,” Niall and Harry say in unison, but Niall reaches out to hold Harry’s hand under the cover of their table. 

“Next round’s on me,” Harry says, pulling Niall’s hand closer. “As an apology.”

“I know what we can do!” Liam says, sloshing his fourth beer a little over his hand. “We can go look at Harry’s new apartment.”

“Oh, hey,” Niall says, brightening up. “I wanna see it.”

“How exactly would we do that?” Louis asks, hanging off Zayn’s shoulder and pointing his beer at Liam. “You just happen to have the key, do you?”

“Yeah,” Liam nods. 

“Well,” Louis nods, and nobody asks another question. Soon enough, they’re stumbling out the door and calling a car to Harry’s new building. 

“This is some fancy shit,” Zayn says as he walks through the door of the apartment. “Bro, do you have a bathroom?”

“Of course I have a bathroom,” Harry says, frowning. “I don’t think you can use it now—”

“I’ll risk it,” Zayn mumbles, and walks past the huge studio space to where Harry thinks is the direction of the bathroom.

“Of course you got a studio apartment,” Louis says, derisively. “Because you couldn’t be more of a cliché. Surprised there’s no—no, wait, there’s the exposed brick wall.”

“What’s wrong with a studio apartment?” Liam asks, sounding hurt. “I think it’s nice.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t nice, Liam,” Louis says, and they start bickering, so Harry drifts off his attention to Niall, who has silently made his way to the window. He’s quietly looking out to the view of the city when Harry approaches him and stands beside him. 

“What do you think?” Harry asks, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. 

“I hate it,” Niall blurts out and immediately covers his mouth with his hands, an expression of pure horror overtaking his features. “Harry, I’m so sorry,” he says, but it comes out muffled, since he’s still got his hands on his mouth. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Harry says through a lump on his throat. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but he knows he’s not mad at Niall for giving his honest opinion. “We don’t tend to overlap when it comes to taste, you know.”

“You’re right,” Niall agrees, allowing Harry to bring him in for a hug. “But this is where you’re going to _live_. It’s not just one of them expensive stupid-looking sunglasses you buy.” Niall pulls back to frown at Harry. “Sorry.”

“Hey, you know I like it when you’re kinda mean to me,” Harry laughs, giving Niall’s butt a teasing squeeze, which at least elicits a short laugh. “And hey, maybe once I furnish this place, set it up and stuff, you’ll grow to love it.” 

“Yeah,” Niall nods and presses a quick kiss against Harry’s lips. “Of course, that’s totally…” He trails off to kiss Harry more fully on the lips. “That’s what it is.”

Harry nods once before Niall brings their lips together again, and the kiss starts feeling a little more urgent, a little more heated, and he’s not surprised when his back ends hitting the glass of the window. 

“For fuck’s sake, Niall!” Louis yells, which in any other situation would cause Niall and Harry to break apart. But because they are still pretty drunk, they keep kissing, and Harry brings his hands underneath Niall’s sweater to run his nails up his belly. “We are never drinking with you two again.”

“Shut the hell up, Louis,” Niall says before going right back to kissing the life out of Harry.

“Come on, guys,” Liam says weakly. “If you get anything on the apartment, I’ll get in trouble.”

“And Zayn’s falling asleep,” Louis adds. Sure enough, when Harry looks over Niall’s shoulder where the rest of them stand, Zayn’s a walking corpse. 

“To be continued,” Harry mumbles before nipping at Niall’s nose. When he pulls back, he tangles his fingers with Niall, pulling him back toward the door where everyone else is gathered. “I shotgun Niall’s lap.”

“You’re taking a separate Uber,” Liam warns, but they end up getting an SUV, and Niall and Harry make out in the back seat the whole ride to Liam’s place. They don’t stop making out while they wait for the elevator to come down, as well as while they’re riding it to Liam’s floor. 

“Disgusting,” Louis says, after they step into the apartment. “I’m sleeping with you, Liam. Zayn’s a sprawler.”

“Fuck off, bro,” Zayn mumbles, but he’s already making his way toward the guest bedroom.

“Where are we supposed to sleep?” Niall asks, because Harry is otherwise distracted by Niall’s neck and making it with a hickey. “Hey, are you fifteen—stop it.”

“You guys can sleep in my office,” Liam says, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand like a sleepy little baby. “You can get some stuff from the linen closet.”

“Come on, Li,” Louis says, gesturing for Liam to follow him to the room. “Let’s go before they start fornicating.” 

“Assholes,” Niall mumbles against Harry’s lips, but he pulls him roughly across the room toward Liam’s office. They have enough sense to set up duvets and pillows on the floor of Liam’s office before they lie down to make out some more.

“You’re so handsome,” Harry sighs against Niall’s mouth and pulls him further down on top of him. “I like you so much.”

“We’re not actually doing it in your best friend’s office,” Niall mumbles back, but he makes no move to separate himself from Harry, and in fact he runs his hand up Harry’s own stomach. 

“Liam isn’t my best friend,” Harry says and is instantly distracted by Niall kissing down his neck. 

“Who’s your best friend?” Niall laughs against Harry’s neck. The question gives Harry pause, which causes Niall to pull up and look down at Harry. Harry looks back. 

“My mom,” Harry answers finally. “That sounds kind of sad, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t think so,” Niall presses another against Harry’s lips. “Sometimes you can be so sweet.”

“You really like me,” Harry sings against Niall’s lips. “You think I’m cute.”

“Only sometimes,” Niall says, but he’s smiling, and Harry wraps himself around him like an octopus. “Are we ready for bed, then?”

“I guess so,” Harry sighs against Niall’s neck. Niall runs a soothing hand down Harry’s back. “You’re so warm, babe.”

“You too, darlin’,” Niall says, and Harry presses one last kiss against Niall’s cheek before he closes his eyes.

~

Niall’s alarm wakes Harry up much earlier than he would have wanted on a Sunday morning. 

He’s a morning person, usually, but he tends to make an exception on Sundays. He would have thought that Niall would take Sundays to sleep in, as he tends to do when he doesn’t have the kids. But his alarm is ringing, and Harry buries his face deeper into his pillow as Niall shifts around on his side of the bed. Surprisingly enough, Niall gets up after cracking his back and stretching his arms above his head. 

“Where are you going?” Harry mumbles against his pillow.

“I gotta shower before church,” Niall says from somewhere above Harry’s head. “I’ll wake you up when I get out, OK?”

That peaks Harry’s interest, and he opens one eye to look at where Niall is going through his dresser. “You want some company?”

“Go back to sleep,” Niall laughs softly. “You don’t have to be up already, hon.”

“I’m up,” Harry says, shifting a little so his body is directed toward Niall. “Come here, give us a kiss.”

Niall snorts derisively but shuffles toward Harry and leans down to press a light, close-mouthed kiss on his lips. Harry takes this opportunity to pull Niall down on top of him and deepen the kiss, morning breath be damned. 

“Hey, come on,” Niall mumbles against Harry’s lips, but he makes himself comfortable on Harry’s hips. 

“You can shower after,” Harry mumbles back, working his hands under Niall’s sweatpants.

“Hey,” Niall laughs and pulls Harry’s hands off of him. “We’ll be late.”

Harry frowns up at him. “I bet I can get you off in ten minutes.”

“But then we’d be going to church after committing a sin,” Niall explains, climbing off Harry and sitting down next to him on the bed. “And I honestly don’t know if I could face my family with the picture of you jerking me off still fresh in my mind.”

“Come on,” Harry lies back down on his pillow and stretches. “I’m gonna start begging soon enough.”

Niall lets out a frustrated breath through his nose, and Harry knows he’s won. “If we don’t start getting ready now, we’ll be late.”

“All right,” Harry says, sitting up and wrapping his arms around Niall’s waist. “Let’s get in the shower, then. Quicker if we just jump in together.”

~

“I’ve never seen you in slacks before,” Niall says, shooting Harry a quick smile. “You look nice.”

Harry doesn’t even try to tamper down his grin. “Thanks.”

When Harry looks out his window, he can see other families, a lot of kids, parents, grandparents making their way into the church. 

“Hey, are you sure it’s cool if I’m here?” Harry ruffles his hair. “I mean, I’m not gonna fuck you in a church, but still.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Niall says and takes his right hand off the steering wheel to give Harry’s left hand a light squeeze. When he turns off the car, he gives Harry a long, contemplative look. “You weren’t brought up religious, were you?”

“I’m spiritual,” Harry shrugs. “My mom took us to church on occasion. She was lightly Protestant.”

“Yeah,” Niall snorts out a laugh and unlocks the doors. “You’re too carefree to have been brought up Catholic.”

“Well, how am I supposed to take that?” Harry says, following Niall out of the car. “You think I’m all floopy.”

“I think you’re somewhat flighty, yeah,” Niall agrees, and Harry just has to bump his shoulder against Niall’s. “Have you ever been to Catholic mass?”

“Actually, I haven’t,” Harry admits, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. “What should I expect?”

“Well, there’s more standing than you expect,” Niall says as they pass families and kids. “But we come to this one specifically because it’s for kids, so it’ll be a little silly. The twins don’t get bored, though, and I think they actually learn something when they walk out afterward.”

“Maybe I’ll learn a thing or two,” Harry says, and Niall rolls his eyes as he leads him inside.

It’s a relatively large space, but Harry doesn’t really have much to compare it too. Harry stares at one of the stained glass windows when he feels Niall’s hand tugging at his arm to lead him further inside. Harry nearly trips on at least two kids as they make their way through the pews, but soon enough Niall’s stopping and Harry sees Alma standing in the middle of a row of pews. 

“Oh,” Alma’s eyes widen when she spots Harry behind Niall. “I know you said he’d come, but I didn’t actually—hi!” She takes a step forward to give Harry a hug. “Come on, the family’s over here.” Alma lets go of Harry and guides them through some pews, and Harry can feel Niall tense up next to him. 

There, standing next to an older lady is the man Harry had seen at the hospital the night that Lucas was born. The twins are standing on top of the pews talking animatedly to the small crowd of people around them. Harry doesn’t have time to say anything before Annie turns around and spots him. “Harry!” Annie yells and spreads her arms wide signaling that she wants a hug.

“Hi, sweetness,” Harry wraps his arms around her, which she responds to by yelling “Up! Up! Up!” into his ear. 

“Me too!” Robbie insists, jumping up on the pew. Harry laughs and wraps his arm around him too, picking them up a little.

“ _Ita_ ,” Annie says, pulling back from Harry and walking over to the older woman and wrap her little arms around her. “Ita, look, Harry!”

“Hello,” the woman smiles at Harry, hugging Annie close to her. 

“Um, hello,” Harry says, and extends his hand for her to take. “I’m Harry. I’m…” The woman doesn’t take his hand, and around their small group, everyone looks at him curiously. “What’s happening?”

“Ma, this is Harry,” Alma tries to tamper down a laugh. “He’s Niall’s new…friend.” The woman raises her eyebrows at Alma, who raises them right back in a silent response. “Harry, this is my mother, Camila.”

“Hi,” Harry repeats, hand still out for a shake. Camila looks down at it in silent judgment, but she takes pity on him.

“ _Andale_ , come here,” she says, before going in for a kiss on the cheek and a hug. “ _Pues_ , no wonder Niall’s so skinny—are you two on a diet?”

“Ma,” Alma chastises, but she’s got a smile on her face. 

“You know I can’t put on weight, _Buela_ ,” Niall laughs, tugging at the side of his hair nervously. “But Harry’s always on crazy diets.”

“Am not,” Harry counters, frowning at Niall while Robbie tries to start climbing his back.

“Stop flirting,” Alma laughs. “Niall, you’ve met Ben.”

“No, I haven’t,” Niall says, smiling turning a bit strained. The man in question, Ben, looks suitably uncomfortable, but he shakes Niall and Harry’s hands anyway. 

“ _Ita_ says Ben was Mami’s boyfriend,” Annie says as her grandmother holds her closer. “She says _Ito_ didn’t like him.”

“Where is your grandpa?” her grandmother asks, smoothing her hand over Annie’s hair.

“He’s outside with everybody!” Annie informs her. “I’ll go get ‘em!”

“Me too!” Robbie says, and Harry helps him jump off the pew before he goes running after his sister.

“No running!” Harry calls out after them. He watches until Robbie slows to a fast walk, and when he brings his attention back to the group, he’s getting some more curious looks. “Well, what did I do this time?”

“Let’s sit down, dar—Harry,” Niall says and clears his throat. “Service is about to start.”

“Hey, no I wanna go after the kids,” Harry says, eyes going toward the front doors. 

“They’ll be fine,” Niall says, but Harry is already making his way from the group. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“I’ll be right back,” Harry laughs before he walks away.

~

Harry doesn’t get to really interact with the family all that much before the service starts, but he gets to make an incomplete headcount and they are…numerous. 

The service is in Spanish, which shouldn’t be surprising, since once he gets a good look at the congregation, it seems to be a largely non-white majority. Annie spends her time on the lap of her grandfather, a good-natured older man who doesn’t address Harry with one word of English, but the light in his eyes tells Harry that he probably could if he wanted to. When the time comes for everyone to take communion, though, Annie jumps from his lap and onto Harry’s. She doesn’t really talk to him, just hums along with the choir, and when Harry wraps an arm around her little body, she absentmindedly taps on his forearm with her little hands. 

Niall is pretty much entirely focused on the service itself for the most part, but at times, Harry catches him sneaking a glimpse at Ben and Alma where they sit next to them. Obviously, the situation is still bothering him, so Harry runs a hand reassuringly up Niall’s thigh and keeps it there until the end of the service. He doesn’t know how much he helps—Niall doesn’t really say anything—but the little line between Niall’s eyes smoothens out.

It’s a bit hectic, coming out of the church. There are a lot of introductions of other members of Alma’s family, swiftly followed by goodbyes and instructions on what they’re supposed to do when they get to the house. 

“It’s gonna be a little crazy,” Niall explains as they’re making their way away from the parking lot. “I can drop you off at yours if you don’t wanna deal with all of this.”

“But I promised the kids I’d see them there,” Harry argues, running a hand through his hair as he looks out the window. “Are you backing out on me now?

“No, of course I want you there,” Niall assures him. “I was just saying. Alma’s family is big and loud and a little bit intimidating. I know when I met them one of her uncles nearly made me shit my pants.”

The reluctant tone in his voice makes Harry turn to look at Niall. He just looks ahead of him at the road, but his knuckles are white where his hands are gripping the wheel. “Niall, babe,” Harry tries to bite down on a teasing smile. “I’ve met them already. Why are you so nervous?” Immediately, Harry can see some the top of Niall’s ears start to burn. “Babe,” Harry laughs and brings his hand up to rub at Niall’s shoulders. “You’re making me nervous.”

“Sorry,” Niall lets out a shuddery breath. “It’s just—” Niall stops and he looks so flustered that Harry has to rub soothingly at Niall’s back. “You don’t call me that very often.”

“Baaaaby,” Harry says, purposefully obnoxious. Niall makes a disgusted sound, but Harry just presses close to him to kiss him on the cheek. “Baby, baby, baby.”

Finally, Niall snorts out a laugh, and Harry can see some of the tension leave his body. “Please, just be normal. Alma’s family is actually really good at sussing out bullshit.”

“I’ll be good, I promise,” Harry says when he pulls back. “I’ll try to be at my most charming.”

“Don’t,” Niall says warningly.

“I’ll stop for today,” Harry laughs and turns on the radio.

Soon enough, they’re turning into a residential neighborhood, and Harry can see a growing line of cars parking in front of a two-story. 

“So what’s gonna happen when we get there?” Harry asks, leaning back against the car door. 

“Well,” Niall scratches at the spot on his temple. “Just Easter lunch, I guess.”

Harry raises his eyebrows.

“Did your parents not celebrate Easter?” Niall asks, frowning at Harry. “It’s like…America.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Niall,” Harry shrugs. “My mom would take us on trips during Easter sometimes?”

“I thought you were kidding about the religion stuff,” Niall says, bringing a hand up to cuff Harry’s neck affectionately. “You’re wearing a cross right now.”

“I’m spiritual, I told you,” Harry laughs, placing a hand above the one Niall’s got on his neck. “Why, is dating me against your religion?”

“I wouldn’t—” Niall clears his throat, and when he slides his hand back, Harry keeps holding it on the middle console. “If someone told me I wasn’t allowed to date you, I’d sock ‘em in the jaw.”

At that, Harry doesn’t have a choice but to unbuckle his seatbelt and lean across the center console to give Niall a soft kiss. He brings his hands up to cradle Niall’s face in his hands and means to deepen the kiss when they’re startled apart by a loud banging. When they break apart and they look toward the source of the noise, there is a guy banging on the hood of the car and laughing at Niall’s direction. He’s saying something Harry can’t make out, and he thinks it might be rude, but he hears Niall mumble, “For fuck’s sake,” before getting out of the car.

Before Harry has time to react, the guy that had been laughing tackles Niall to the ground.

“Niall!” Harry yelps, getting out of the car. “Oh my God, get off him!” He scrambles to drag the guy off Niall, until Harry sees him on his back, laughing, as the other guy playfully punches him in the stomach. “Oh, what is happening?”

“Harry, this is Jaime, Alma’s cousin.” Niall groans, sitting up. “Jaime, this is Harry, my--” 

“Your boyfriend?” Jaime asks, standing up, pulling Niall with him. “I didn’t know you were gay, man. Good for you.”

“I’m—” Niall starts, but he stops immediately, giving up. “Thanks, man.”

“For sure,” Jaime smiles and turns to look at Harry. “So are you my new brother in law?”

“OK!” Niall says loudly, clasping his hands on Harry’s shoulders. “Let’s go inside. I’m starving.”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Jaime keeps talking as they walk toward the house. “We’re brothers, man.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Harry says earnestly.

“I’m a really good person,” Jaime informs him seriously.

Niall rolls his eyes and leads them into the house.

~

Soon after they’ve entered the melee inside the house, Niall is stolen by the women of the family into the kitchen. “He needs me,” Niall laughs as Alma pulls him toward the kitchen. 

“I need you,” Alma laughs. “Benny’s on call, and I’m left all alone. Harry needs to learn to hold his own now.”

“I’ll be out in a bit,” Niall shoots an apologetic look at Harry, who waves him off and assures him he can handle himself. Niall tells him to be careful.

Niall’s earlier warnings were warranted, too, because Alma’s family is pretty huge. Maybe it seems bigger than it is, Harry thinks, because the house is so small and it feels full when there are more than five people in the living room. But that day, Harry meets member after member of Alma’s family—aunts, cousins, nephews—all introduced to him as “Niall’s boyfriend.” 

If Harry had any expectations about how Niall’s ex wife’s family would react to him, he’s a little blown away by their nonchalance. The older members of her family are a bit confused when Harry tries to explain, but a lot of that confusion can be attributed to their language barrier. Throughout the entire day, Harry hears more Spanish than he’s ever heard living in southern California for most of his life. He’s even surprised when he realizes that the twins are speaking Spanish to anyone that isn’t him.

Currently, they’re outside, standing under the awning in the backyard, watching the kids run around. Except for Annie, who’s sitting in her grandfather’s lap where the men of the family are playing dominoes behind them.

“They’re so smart,” Harry comments to Jaime, who’s appointed himself as the ambassador between Harry and the family. “Only four years old and already they speak two languages fluently.”

“Yeah, I always thought it was cool how they did that,” Jaime replies, taking a sip from his beer. It’s still only eleven in the morning, but everyone’s got at least one beer in them. “Doesn’t hurt that Niall’s fluent.”

“I love that about him,” Harry blurts out, almost like a reflex. He immediately feels his cheeks heat up, and he clears his throat before changing the subject. “So, Niall seems to get on really well with your family. That’s great for the kids.”

“Yeah, we all love him,” Jaime replies easily, graciously ignoring Harry’s little outburst. “It was a little hard at first. Tia Mari nearly had an aneurysm when she found out Niall was white, but when he turned out to be a good Catholic boy, she warmed up to him pretty quickly.”

“I can’t imagine anyone not warming up to him,” Harry admits quietly, smiling to himself. “He’s like, warmth personified.”

Harry closes his eyes at how corny he’s just sounded, but he only hears Jaime snort a laugh before he cuffs him lightly on the head. “I’m glad Niall found someone like you, man. That’s the type of shit he needs in his life.”

“Someone cheesy?” Harry jokes, but Jaime just rolls his eyes.

Behind them, one of the men—Abraham, if Harry remembers correctly—calls Jaime up to him. They have a short conversation, and Jaime laughs before clapping Harry on the shoulder. “Gotta go buy more beer. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Harry shoots him a quick “see you” before Jaime goes through the sliding doors into the house. 

That leaves Harry to his own devices for once, alone in the backyard, so he turns his attention behind to the game of dominoes. He doesn’t have to say anything before Annie notices him and calls him to attention.

“Yes, honey?” Harry asks, and she climbs off her grandfather’s lap to walk right up to him. Her hairband has twisted around and her hair is all over her face, so he gets on his knees to fix her hair for her.

“Harry, how many grandpas do you have?” Annie asks, shifting impatiently on her feet. “I got two!”

“Um,” Harry clears his throat, smoothing down the back of her hair. “I have one, sweetie.”

“Did the other die?” Annie asks, mouth turning down in a frown. “That’s no fair.”

“It’s not,” Harry agrees, cupping her little cheek. “But that’s life. Why are you asking me this stuff, honey?” 

“I ‘unno,” Annie shrugs, but she brings right hand to pull at a curl above her ear. “It’s scary.”

For how smart Annie is, sometimes Harry forgets that she’s only four years old. As talkative and as funny as she is, she’s bound to find trouble expressing her burgeoning fear of death. 

“Come here,” Harry says before picking her up. She wraps her arms around his neck and buries her face against his chest. “Let’s find your parents.”

“I want my _ita_ ,” Annie mumbles against his chest, and Harry just rubs her little back. When he turns to head back, inside, he sees Alma’s father looking fondly at them. Harry shoots him a weak smile, and he only nods once, so harry opens the sliding doors and heads inside.

A group of the women of the family is gathered in the living room, and soon enough Annie wiggles out of Harry’s arms and rushes to her grandmother, climbing on her lap where’s she’s sitting in an arm chair. Harry watches as Annie hugs her grandmother as tightly as possible, smiling when Camila adjusts their position so Annie can sit comfortably on her lap before kissing her once on the forehead. 

“Well, come on,” he hears a voice before he’s being grabbed by the forearm and led toward the group of women. When he turns to see who’s leading him, he sees Nancy, one of Alma’s cousins Harry had briefly been introduced to earlier. “It’s creepy to stare.”

The only response Harry can think of is to look dumbly down at Nancy, who drags him to take a seat next to her on a little folding chair. When he sits down, one cheek hanging off the edge of the chair, he looks up to about six pairs of eyes assessing him.

“Hello,” Harry says, trying for an easy smile. He’s never had difficulty charming a group of old ladies before, but he’s never had a language barrier to account for. “How are you lovely ladies—” Harry doesn’t get to finish his thought before they start talking amongst themselves, shooting furtive looks at Harry, obviously talking about him.

Finally, one of the younger women turns to Harry and asks, an amused look on her face, “What do you do for work?”

“Um, I’m a freelance writer,” Harry says, leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees. Luckily, he’s wearing a sweater today. “I write for online publications, mostly. A lot of lifestyle pieces.”

They look at him like he’s speaking a foreign language, which, he nearly is.

“And do you make money doing that?” a different lady asks. “I thought the Internet was free.”

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” Nancy giggles, raising her eyebrows suggestively. 

That’s how Harry finds himself trying to explain his job as a freelance writer, and then soon enough struggling to admit that his trust fund is the reason he’s been able to live his stupid life as comfortably as he has. 

Before Harry can make more of a fool of himself, he hears the glass doors slide open and when he turns around, he sees Robbie walk in along with some of their older cousins. Almost in unison, the entire room fills with noise and the woman who had just spoken opens her arms. He doesn’t understand what she says, but Robbie trudges toward her and is immediately enveloped by her arms. He’s smothered in kisses, and the rest of the women coo at them in a way that he suspects is not new. Harry can’t help but smile at the sight. 

“Harry, I'm hungry,” Robbie says, letting out a tragic sigh. Harry coos sympathetically at him and runs a hand through his hair. 

“Food’s almost ready, sweetie,” Harry assures him, but Robbie doesn’t look convinced, and he looks dejectedly down at his dress shoes. 

“Harry,” Annie’s voice drifts, and when Harry looks up, she’s made her way next to her brother. “Mariano got dirt on my dress.”

“Now how did that happen?” Harry mumbles, and he decides that they’re too far away from him like this, and gets down to sit cross legged on the hardwood floor and pulls them on his lap. “We’re gonna get you guys food in a little bit, and then I’m gonna put you two down for a nap. How does that sound?”

“I’m not tired!” Annie pouts, but she burrows herself deeper into Harry’s body heat. 

“You’re not having a good day, sugar,” Harry reminds her. “Sometimes when we feel blue, sleep can really help.”

Annie sighs again but says, “OK” before snuggling against his chest.

“Harry, you gotta see our room!” Robbie says, bouncing a little on Harry’s thigh. “You have to meet Rodolfo!”

“Is that one of your friends, sweetheart?” Harry asks, but he doesn’t get a chance to answer before Annie is interrupting him with a question about her dad’s whereabouts. “He’s in the kitchen, sugar. Let’s go to him, all right?” He pushes them gently off himself before getting on his feet. When he stands up, he grabs hold of the twins’ little hands in his bigger ones, and before he turns around to step walk down the hallway toward the kitchen, he spares a glance at the women he’d been speaking to earlier. They’re all observing him, talking amongst themselves again, with those curious looks in their eyes. Harry shoots them what he hopes is a charming smile before turning around and leading the kids toward their father.

Robbie seems to be in high spirits, because during their short walk, he keeps telling Harry about the stuff that he has to show him. Annie, on the other hand, is quiet as she clutches at the hem of Harry’s sweater. 

“Come here, sugar,” Harry mumbles, stopping to pick up Annie and hold her in his arms once again. “What’s got you down?”

“I don’t like getting dirty,” Annie tells him grumpily. “And I wanted to look pretty today.”

“You do look pretty, sugar,” Harry assures her, bouncing her a little on his hip. “You look like a dandelion.”

“A dandelion?” Annie asks, pulling back to look at Harry’s face directly. “I like dandelions.”

“Dandelions are fun to play with,” Robbie contributes. Harry hums in agreement just as they cross the threshold into the kitchen.

“Hey,” Harry hears, and when he looks up, Niall is wiping his hands with a dishtowel and walking toward them. The kitchen is somewhat spacious, but it’s got people milling about and makes it seem more crowded than it is. “What’s wrong, petal?”

“I got my dress dirty,” Annie informs him, extending her arms for him to pick her up. 

“Well, that happens sometimes, darlin’,” Niall laughs, holding her in his arms. “Can’t get worked up every time some dirt gets on your clothes.”

“But it’s _gross_ ,” Annie whines. Unimpressed, Niall sets her down on the floor. “We’ll put it in the wash later and it’ll be good as new. Don’t be a drama queen now.”

“But papi—”

“Food is ready,” Niall tells her, and turns to Robbie. “Go on and tell everyone to sit down in the dining room.”

“OK, papi,” Robbie says and turns around to relay the message. 

“Go with your brother, baby,” Niall tells little Annie, whose pout reappears before she whines, “But papi—” 

“Go,” Niall says more firmly, putting Annie down on the ground. She frowns up at him for a second before turning around and running after her brother. After Niall’s seen her off, he turns back to Harry and shoots him a weary smile. “Thanks for being sweet to her, but she needs to get over that kind of stuff. You giver her an inch…”

“But I think it’s more than just that,” Harry goes on, running a hand through his hair. “She’s been acting kind of sad today.”

“Oh,” Niall frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugs. “But maybe you and Alma should sit her down later.”

“Um,” Niall nods. “Yeah, OK. Thanks.”

“I don’t like seeing her upset,” Harry admits before biting his lower lip. Niall’s expression softens and before he starts moving toward the kitchen counter, says, “I don’t either.”

“Need any help?” Harry asks, following after him leisurely. “I’m a hell of a chef, I’ve been told.”

Niall rolls his eyes and just hands him a tray of rice. “Just help me take this to the table, idiot. And don’t drop it.”

“Ye of little faith,” Harry teases, before taking the plate in his hands and heading toward the dining room.

The whole affair is pretty chaotic, as there are way too many people for anyone to be sitting around just one table, so everybody ends up just eating wherever they land. It’s loud and it’s unorganized and it’s so fun, and Harry can’t really wipe the smile off his face for most of the duration of their meal. 

The family seems to have warmed up to him, as they stop assessing him quietly and try to include him in their conversations. Turns out most of them know how to speak English—they just didn’t want Harry to know that before they’d gotten a good read on him. He respects that, but he’s happy that they like him enough to let him in. And now that they consider him trustworthy, he gets some much-needed insight into the whole situation.

“And they didn’t invite anyone to the wedding!” one of Alma’s aunts, a sprightly 50-year-old woman named Norma exclaims, scandalized, even after all these years. “Just went to the courtroom—didn’t even tell their parents.”

“I think eloping is kind of romantic,” Harry tries, hoping to defend Niall and Alma’s decision. 

“But without telling the family?!” another aunt interjects. “And then a month later we find out she’s five months pregnant! _Ay, que escandalo_!”

“But you got over it,” Harry reasons, leaning in closer in his seat. “You seem to really like him, even after the divorce.”

“ _Pues_ , he’s a nice boy,” the first aunt concedes. “And real considerate—when my husband broke his hip last year, he would just offer to drive him around sometimes. He’s real sweet.”

Harry’s heart warms at that, and he can’t help the goofy smile that takes over his face. “He’s a sweet person.”

At that, they all coo at him, and they keep telling him stories about how wonderful Niall is. Soon enough, though, Harry sees Annie on the corner of his eye, looking tired and like she’s about to drop on the floor. 

“Excuse me,” Harry mumbles, before heading toward Annie. “Hey, pumpkin. I think it’s your naptime.”

It’s telling how Annie bridges no argument and simply lifts her arms up in what he’s come to know as her “pick me up” gesture. When he’s got her securely in his arms, Harry heads over to Niall, who is busy talking to Jaime and some other cousins. “Hey, I’m gonna put her down.”

“Oh, right,” Niall excuses himself from the conversation and gestures for Harry to follow him. They make their way through the living room and then down a hallway. They pass a few doors before Niall is opening one and they’re stepping into a room not too dissimilar than the twins’ back at Niall’s place.

Annie is already asleep, so Harry just deposits her gently onto the bed he assumes is hers after noticing the germ stuffed toy neatly placed on top of one of the green pillows. He takes off her shoes and pulls up a Moana blanket over her little body before crouching down to press a short kiss to the crown of her head.

“Alma and I talked to her a bit earlier,” Niall says from his perch on the doorway. “Camila’s been having a bad few weeks, and Annie’s beginning to understand what illness really is. She’s scared of losing her grandmother.”

“Poor baby,” Harry says, running a hand lightly through her hair.

“Thanks for letting me know she was feeling sad today,” Niall says, nervously grabbing at some hair above his ear. “I didn’t realize the whole situation was affecting her like this.”

“This has been going on for a while, then?” Harry gets up from his crouch to sit down on the other bed. Niall hasn’t mentioned Camila or illness in the past few weeks. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Niall shrugs, finally crossing the threshold into the room. “Didn’t want to bring it up.”

“You’re still holding out on me,” Harry sighs, suddenly exhausted. He leans forward on his elbows and gestures at Niall to take a seat next to him. “Why did you bring me today?”

“I want you here,” Niall says, making his way toward Harry. “You have to know, by now, just how much I want you with me—with us.”

“Niall—”

“I know it’s too soon,” Niall is quick to respond, to start tugging at the sides of his hair nervously. “I’m not saying I—I’m not saying anything, all right? I’ve already told you how I feel, but I wanted to show you what that means.” He looks away from Harry then, expression somewhat ashamed. “I guess I wanted to see if you’d get scared.”

At that, Harry looks away from Niall, and he doesn’t know whether or not to feel angry with Niall, for testing him in such an unfair way. But he understands where he’s coming from, he thinks. Niall doesn’t have the luxury of dating someone without thinking of the consequences, and, since Harry had pretty obnoxiously worn down his defenses, he has to be considerate.

“You didn’t sign up for any of this,” Niall says, running his hands down his face. “And I know I’m probably overwhelming you. But dating me means much more than just screwing around and occasionally cooking dinner for me and my kids.”

“Niall?” Harry turns his head to look at Niall and waits for him to face him back. When he finally does, Harry brings his hand up to run a finger down his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You say that now—”

“I _am_ saying that now,” Harry argues, running a hand through his hair. “You can’t keep shutting me out and deal with this heavy shit on your own. And you can’t freak out about what hasn’t happened yet, or else you’ll drive us both crazy.”

“You’re right,” Niall nods once before facing Harry once more. He looks steely for a moment before his expression crumbles and he looks upset and vulnerable again. “I’m a fucking mess, aren’t I?”

Before answering, Harry leans in to kiss him deep and slow and careful. “Yeah. But lucky for you I don’t care.”

Niall’s body relaxes at that, and he’s got a tentative smile on when he mumbles into Harry’s mouth. “I’m happy you’re here.”

~

The Monday before Harry is set to leave on his work trip, he decides to take Niall and the twins out to dinner.

“You know, when you suggested dinner,” Niall says after swallowing a bite of pizza. “Chuck E. Cheese was not the first thing to come to mind.”

“Well, you have little imagination,” Harry suggests playfully, which Niall responds to by throwing a crumpled up napkin at him. They’re sitting at a table close to the ball pit, so that they can keep an eye on the kids. Niall is more than uneasy about the level of hygiene of the pit, but after explicitly telling the kids to keep their mouths away from the balls, he agreed.

“I feel like a broken record,” Niall says, turning serious. “But you really don’t have to do all this.”

“I know,” Harry sighs, bringing a hand up to push his hair away from his face. “But I feel a bit guilty about not being here for their birthday.”

“You don’t have to feel guilty at all,” Niall says. “You do so much for them. More than you need to, honestly.”

“I’m gonna miss you guys,” Harry admits. “I know it’s only a few weeks, but…I’ll miss you.”

“I think they’ll miss you too,” Niall says, tapping at the table with his fingers. “I’ll miss you.” He shakes himself off and rolls his eyes. “It’s only two weeks.” 

“I haven’t spent more than a week away from you in months,” Harry frowns at the realization. “I don’t think I know how to be when you’re not around,” he jokes, but it doesn’t come out as playful as he expected. 

“You know that whole thing about absence,” Niall says, moving his hand so it covers Harry’s on the table. “Making the heart grow fonder or whatever.”

“Or whatever,” Harry snorts. “My man is so romantic. When are you gonna start writing poetry, babe?”

“Maybe I’ll pick it up while you’re gone,” Niall smiles, drawing small circles on the back of Harry’s hand with his thumb. “Get a whole book ready for you.”

“I know you’re kidding,” Harry brings his drink to take a sip. “But you’re probably the most thoughtful person I’ve ever dated.”

“What about that one girl who wrote those songs about you?” Niall asks.

“She wrote those after we broke up,” Harry explains, straw still in his mouth. “They weren’t glowing reviews either.”

“Well, I promise I won’t write any songs about you,” Niall assures him, and when he turns to shoot a quick look at the twins, he frowns. “Kay, fun’s over. If I don’t get those monsters outta there, it’s not gonna happen.”

“Can’t we stay a little longer?” Harry frowns up at Niall when he stands up. “Pweaaaaase?”

“I’m only raising two kids, idiot,” Niall says, but he brushes a strand of Harry’s hair behind his ear to soften the blow. “Ask for a to-go box, will ya? Might take all this for lunch tomorrow.”

“And a salad,” Harry raises an eyebrow.

Niall rolls his eyes. “You’re not packing my lunch.”

Harry purses his lips.

“Harry,” Niall sighs.

“I went on a meal prep video binge on YouTube,” Harry shrugs. “Might not be a lot of room in the fridge, sorry.”

Niall lets out a long-suffering sigh, but he smiles. “I chose you.”

Harry’s heart swells in his chest. “And you’re regretting that _now_?”

~

That Tuesday, Niall leaves the kids with Alma and her family, so they can spend the afternoon together. 

“When do you leave?” Niall asks, running a nose up Harry’s neck after he pulls him closer against him after he’s put the lasagna in the oven. 

“You know when I leave,” Harry breathes, clutching Niall’s t-shirt closer so he doesn’t take one step back. “You’ve got it written on your Google calendar. One of three.”

“You shouldn’t make fun of my organizational skills,” Niall mumbles against Harry’s neck before lightly biting at the skin there. 

“I’m not,” Harry assures him. “You know I think your spreadsheets are hot.”

“A bit too much, if you ask me,” Niall says, starting to run his hands down Harry’s back. “Those office roleplaying games you like to do are weirdly specific.” 

“This is the first complaint I’ve heard from you,” Harry huffs, but he tips Niall’s face up to kiss him, deep and dirty. “How much time do we have until the lasagna’s ready?”

“Around thirty minutes,” Niall mumbles, and he’s got that look on his eyes that tells Harry that he’s done kidding around.

“How about that,” Harry bites his lip to tamper down a smile. 

Forty-five minutes later, the lasagna tray sits between them on the coffee table, and they take turns picking at it, naked except for the blankets wrapped around themselves. 

“I love my babies,” Niall starts, running a hand through his bare chest. “But there’s something to be said about being able to eat stuff right out of the pan while naked in my own living room.”

“This,” Harry says, pulling Niall closer and pressing a kiss against his temple. “Is the height of luxury.”

~

On Wednesday, Harry spends the morning packing, then the afternoon getting the house ready for Niall and the kids.

A few minutes after six, the front door opens, and Harry greets Niall and the twins with a room full of balloons and streamers, “Celebrate” playing in the background, and a fistful of confetti. 

The twins dump their stuff on the door, their eyes wide in awe before they yell happily and run toward Harry. Harry kneels down to catch them in a hug, unsurprisingly falling onto his back and taking them with him.

“What’s all this, then?” Niall laughs, hanging the twins’ bags from the hooks next to the door. 

“Can’t you read?” Harry’s eyes drift to the “Happy Birthday!” banner hanging from the ceiling. 

“I can read,” Annie says primly, then looks up at the banner. “Ha-pee burt-day.”

“Very good,” Harry smiles up at her and boops her nose. 

“Harry our birthday is in the four of May,” Robbie informs him tugging at his shirt. “Today is the 26 of April.”

“I know, sugar,” Harry laughs before getting up. “That’s why I threw this party for you guys today.”

“Wow,” Robbie says, and Harry grabs their hands and leads them to the kitchen.

“But Papi, we still get a big party, right?” Annie asks, looking back at her dad, who only laughs and assures her they get a big party. “Good.”

After a dinner of hot dogs and baked potato stars, and after the twins have devoured two strawberry cupcakes each, Harry guides them to their bedroom, where he’s set up their presents on their beds. When the kids step into the room, they spare a wide eyed look at Harry before heading directly to their gifts. 

“You know you’re getting super laid tonight, right?” Niall mumbles against his ear before following the kids inside. Harry only hums.

“Can we open ‘em?” Annie asks, the wrapped box already precariously sat on her lap. “I wanna open my gift.”

“Sure, baby,” Niall laughs, sitting down next to Robbie while Harry takes a spot next to her. “Come on, I wanna see too.”

They don’t need to be told twice before they roughly start ripping the wrapping paper.

They scream. 

“You did not,” Niall says, shocked smile on his face as he watches the twins struggle to get their new ukuleles out of their boxes. “Kids—”

They yell their thank you’s while they keep working on the boxes, and when they finally get them open, Annie stands up on her bed and starts jumping up and down. 

“Papi, teach us!” Annie yells, positioning her instrument the way she’s seen Niall do countless times. 

“All right, all right,” Niall laughs, and he shoots Harry a quick smile before turning his attention to his children. “Where do we start, then?”

A few hours later, after the kids have been put to bed, after Niall goes into their room to tell them to go to sleep for the last time, after Niall has thanked Harry effusively for the afternoon multiple times, Harry takes a deep breath where he’s contentedly lying on the bed with Niall’s head on his chest. “Well,” Harry sighs, running a hand through Niall’s hair. “That was a good day, wasn’t it?”

“This is off the record,” Niall starts, shifting a little but not moving to extricate from Harry’s body, “so you can’t repeat it to outsiders or use it against me in a court of law, but...you kind of rocked my world.”

“Really?” Harry asks, smiling down at Niall, who looks up and smiles back. “You know one of my kinks is getting your approval; we might have to go again in a few minutes.”

“Well,” Niall pinches lightly at Harry’s hip, “we have to get a lot of sex in before you leave, you know.”

“You’re so right,” Harry shifts so he can face Niall fully and wrap himself around Niall. “I’m gonna miss that face.”

“We’re making this much more of a big deal than it really is,” Niall rolls his eyes. “I feel like I’ve said that one thousand times, Jesus.”

“There’s comfort in reassurance,” Harry mumbles, rubbing his nose against Niall’s. “And I’ll be a whole ocean away.”

“Do you have to?” Niall laughs, biting lightly at Harry’s cheek. “The kids will be unbearable until you’re back, especially after tonight.”

“Kiss me, Niall,” Harry mumbles, wrapping his arms around Niall’s shoulders. Niall kisses him. “That’s the stuff.”

“Hey,” Niall laughs. “Do you want me to drive you to the airport?” 

“Ugh, no,” Harry makes a face at that. “I’ll just get an Uber, don’t be silly.”

“OK,” Niall mumbles, voice already slurring a little. “’Cause I was gonna be so mad at you if you said yes.”

“I wouldn’t wanna test your love for me that way,” Harry laughs softly, running a hand down Niall’s back.

Niall only hums. Harry watches him fall asleep. 

~

Before Harry has to leave the next morning, he gently wakes Niall up to say good-bye.

“Don’t get up,” Harry whispers, pushing Niall’s hair away from his forehead. “Just wanted to say bye.”

“No, hey,” Niall blinks sleepily up at Harry before sitting up a little. “Hold on.”

“My car’s almost here, hon,” Harry says, running a hand up and down Niall’s side. Niall ignores this and reaches toward the drawer in his bedside drawer. “What are you doing?”

“I’m looking for something,” Niall mumbles, and Harry takes a chance to sit down next to him in bed.

“Hey,” Harry leans in to press a kiss against the crown of Niall’s head. “My car’s here.”

“Wait a sec,” Niall grumbles.

“I gotta go, babe,” Harry sighs, and Niall finally stops looking through his drawer. 

“Yeah,” Niall leans back against the headboard and looks up at Harry. “Two weeks, yeah?”

“Two weeks,” Harry nods and leans in to kiss Niall fully on the lips. "Don't miss me too much."

Niall doesn't roll his eyes. Instead, he gently cradles Harry's face in his hands and kisses him again. Harry ends up having to call another car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *this* is what she's been working on for months? bitch i know


	9. just leave it for now

The first Monday of May finds Niall without another body wrapped around him for the first time in weeks. He shifts so he faces the side of the bed that Harry’s messy head of hair usually occupies and takes ninety seconds to miss him terribly before he gets up to start his day.

Having spent many more mornings without Harry than with him, Niall doesn’t find it very hard to rearrange their routine. The kids don’t seem very affected by the disruption to their regularly scheduled morning, even if they have become increasingly difficult about playing with their ukuleles. 

“Papi,” Annie calls from her spot in the backseat. “Papi, our birthday is in three days.”

“I know, baby,” Niall smiles as he turns the corner. “Are you excited for your party?”

“Yes!” the twins yell in unison. Niall laughs and connects the radio to his phone so he can play the twins’ car music playlist. When he drops them off, they’re all in such high spirits that Niall demands a few extra hugs and kisses, which the twins are not old enough to deny him yet. 

He spends thirty minutes in traffic, despite his office building only being ten minutes away from the children’s school. Today he doesn’t find it in himself to be annoyed, however, not even when some jerk in a Range Rover cuts him off. 

“Good morning,” Niall waves at their receptionist, Minnie, as he walks into the offices. “How’s it going, Min?”

“You know it’s only a matter of time, Niall,” Minnie says, already looking a little flustered. “I’ve been here twenty minutes and the phone’s already rung five times. Business hours don’t even officially start until twenty minutes from now.” 

“Then don’t answer the phone,” Niall laughs, stepping into his shared office. All he hears is Minnie’s frustrated greeting to whoever is at the other end of another phone call. 

“Good morning, sweetie,” Tina, Niall’s officemate greets him chirpily from her desk.

“Good morning, T,” Niall greets just as happily, setting his backpack down behind his desk. “How was your weekend?”

“Oh, wonderful,” Tina says. “I slept so much, honey, it was heaven.”

“Hmm, I hear you,” Niall nods, logging into his ancient work desktop. “Alma had the kids this weekend, so I just like, ate in bed and stuff.”

“Oh, baby,” Tina laughs. “That’s not a way to spend a weekend, not at your age.”

“What?” Niall frowns, eyes on the screen of his desktop. 

“I’m old and frail,” Tina argues. “You’re still in your twenties. You’re supposed to be a little wild."

“You know, I’ve got two children,” Niall reminds her. “And my boyfriend’s out of town—” Niall stops himself, realizing the mistake he’s made.

Tina raises an eyebrow before slowly speaking. “Your _what_ is out of town?”

It takes thirty minutes for Niall to tell his co-workers (all his co-workers—Tina called the entire floor into their office) enough about Harry for them to leave him alone. Tina keeps shooting him knowing looks, and he can’t go to the kitchen without one of his co-workers asking him invasive questions, but he doesn’t mind as much as he thought he would. He had kept Harry a bit of a secret, because he wanted to avoid everyone’s nosiness, but once confronted with it, he finds he kind of enjoys talking about Harry. 

Most of his work today consists of paperwork and phone calls, and by the time his lunch break rolls around, he’s starving and hoarse. Tina and half of the office go out to the Chili’s across the street, but he begs off, because he brought lunch from home, and he’s got things to do.

“ _Dobar dan_!” Harry greets as soon as the video call connects. “That means hi or something.”

“Hi,” Niall laughs, ruffling the hair in the back of his head a little. “How’s it going over there?”

“It’s really beautiful here,” Harry says, and Niall notices how hoarse he sounds. 

“Are you feeling OK?” Niall asks, and he can see the video feed of himself scrunching his nose up in concern. “You sound sick.”

“It’s really cold here,” Harry says, pulling his hair from his face. “Just the sniffles, darling, don’t worry. How are you? How are the babies?”

“They’re fine,” Niall laughs. “Come on, you’re in Eastern Europe; tell me about that.”

Niall spends his lunch break eating and listening to Harry tell him about his first full weekend in Zagreb, about the food he’s tried, and the people he’s met. He misses Harry like crazy, but he’s also fascinated by his life. 

“But how are you?” Harry asks through a yawn. “What’s going on, tell me.”

“There’s nothing going on,” Niall shrugs, going out of frame a bit to wake his computer up. “Spent the weekend sleeping and doing stuff for the twins’ birthday party.”

“Niall,” Harry sighs. “What did I say about holding out?”

“What do you want me to say?” Niall laughs, unsure. “I’m busy, and everything is the same as it always is. I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I just miss you,” Harry places his head on his hand where he’s lying on the bed. “But I guess you’re at work, and stuff. Can’t imagine you wanting your co-workers to overhear our dirty talk.”

“You’re disgusting,” Niall snorts, to which Harry responds with an idiotic ‘Oooh.’

“I’m joshing,” Harry says through a yawn. “Nobody gets to hear your dirty talk but me.”

“I didn’t know we were exclusive,” Niall coughs, can feel the heat of embarrassment crawling up his neck. 

“Niall,” Harry says, voice gone noticeably lower. “That’s not funny.”

“Yeah, like I’d have time to sleep around,” Niall huffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “If one of us were to sleep around it’d probably be you.”

“Wow,” Harry laughs humorlessly. “Real nice.”

“I’m just kidding,” Niall lets out a nervous laugh. “But like, we’re not married or anything, and you’re an ocean away, so I wouldn’t be angry if you—”

“If I fucked some Croatian stranger,” Harry finishes off, biting tone betraying the smile on his face. “Since we’re not exclusive, after all.”

“When did this conversation take a turn?” Niall asks, disbelief coloring his words. “Why are you angry at me?”

“I’m not angry, Niall,” Harry says, voice going clipped in a way Niall has never heard it before. “I’m insulted. And you hurt my feelings.”

“Because I’m talking about how you can fuck whoever you want?”

“Because you’re implying that I would!”

“Well, why wouldn’t you?” Niall asks, growing more confused by the second. “You’re—you’re you.”

“Right,” Harry nods, gaze turning from Niall and to something out of Niall’s sight. “I’ve got to go to sleep now, so I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah,” is all Niall says, but Harry’s already ended their call.

~

Things between Niall and Harry are strained, but Harry still calls every other day to talk to the twins. Invariably, the twins will grow bored, however, and when they run off to play, Niall is quick to end the call before Harry can bring the conversation to their sort-of-fight. They communicate through texts, but Niall is afraid that if they have another phone conversation they’ll get into another fight, and he’ll end up putting his foot in his mouth again. It won’t be long now, he thinks, since Harry should be back a few days after the twins’ birthday.

The Friday before the twins’ party finds Niall and the kids at Alma’s family’s house, helping the twins’ aunts and uncles make centerpieces and goody bags for the party the next day. 

“I think we ran out of glitter,” Nancy announces to the table, pushing the half-finished Styrofoam Moana centerpiece away from her. “Do you think Hobby Lobby is open at this hour?”

“Walmart is,” Jaime says, painting another coat on Captain America’s shield. “I could go there real quick.”

“No, I think I bought enough,” Alma sighs, pushing herself up to stand. “I think there are more bags in my bedroom. I’ll be back in a sec.”

“Cool,” Jaime sighs. “I didn’t wanna go to Walmart.”

“Dumbass,” Nancy mumbles, but the corners of her lips turn up anyway. 

“Papi,” Niall hears Robbie call for him before he feels the twins approach him. “Papi, help!”

“Our ball is on the roof!” Annie explains, pointing upward.

“How did that happen?” Niall asks, already tired. 

The twins shrug innocently. 

“All right,” Niall sighs, pushing his chair back. “I’m only going to get it this time, because it’s your birthday, OK?”

“Thanks, papi,” the twins chorus, following as he steps through the sliding glass doors to the backyard. 

After dragging the ladder from the shed in the backyard, Niall climbs carefully to part of the roof where the kids had insisted their ball had landed.

“I don’t see anything,” Niall calls under himself, pointing his phone’s flashlight in front of him. 

“Papi, it’s on the top!” Annie yells back. “Papi!”

“All right!” he yells, growing somewhat frustrated. “Get me a flashlight, baby.”

“I got it!” Robbie yells before Niall hears him run away, followed by his sister crying indignantly. 

“Jesus Christ,” Niall mumbles shining his light into the darkness of the roof, fruitlessly searching for something round. Finally, his flashlight seems to catch on something red. 

“Papi, papi!” Annie calls from below. “Here!” 

“Thanks, petal,” Niall sighs, climbing down to take the much stronger flashlight. “Stand back, yeah? I think I saw it, I’ll just throw it down to you.”

“Throw it at me, papi!” Robbie calls out.

“No, at me!” Annie counters, and they continue to argue as Niall carefully steps onto the roof itself in the direction of the red ball he’s finally spotted. 

“Shit,” Niall mumbles as he carefully steps on the shingles, slowly treading toward the ball. Finally, he gets his hand around the ball, and throws it down at the twins. “Heads up!”

“Thank you, papi!” the twins call up to him, and Niall starts carefully making his way down to the ladder. “Yeah, yeah,” Niall says. “Next time, it’s staying up here, all right?” 

The twins groan in annoyance, and Niall rolls his eyes before taking another step forward. “If you’re annoying, ya won’t get a present tonight.”

“Papi!” the twins yell, shocked and totally appalled. 

“Ya heard me—shit!” Niall’s foot right foot slides forward and he loses his balance for a second before he holds himself back upright. “Jesus.”

“Papi, bad word!” Robbie yells, suddenly very serious.

“Yeah, I kn—oh fuck—” Again, his right foot slides forward and he’s suddenly propelled down, grasping for nothing but air. He has enough time to grab onto the gutter on the side of the roof before he falls to his death. 

“Papi!” Annie yells, and he can hear a set of steps running toward him. Thankfully, he can also hear Robbie yell for Alma and the sliding door opening clumsily.

“I’m OK, petal,” Niall yells down toward her, hoping he sounds more calm than he feels. “Just go get your mama.”

“Papi, don’t fall,” Annie says, voice shaking. 

“I won’t, just go inside,” Niall assures her. 

“Papi!” Annie yells, and before Niall can say anything else to calm her down, he slips the rest of the way down. 

It’s not a very long drop, but the wind gets knocked out of him when he lands on the grass of the backyard. He can’t feel where his wrist is broken in two places.

~

One of the perks of having a doctor for an ex-wife is that Niall doesn’t have to wait for hours on end in order to receive medical attention. Alma had wanted to take care of the injury herself, but Niall had insisted she stay with the kids and let someone else set his wrist. Annie hadn’t stopped crying since the moment she saw him fall, and Robbie hadn’t looked much better either, even despite Niall assuring them that it wasn’t as bad as all that. He feels guilty about leaving them crying with the rest of the family, but he also didn’t want them to see his injury.

Finally, his wrist is set, and his distractingly handsome doctor is finishing up his cast.

“I think you’re almost good to go,” Dr. Knight informs him with a sigh. “The cast will take a while to dry, but after that you should be all right.” 

“Jesus,” Niall mumbles, running his good hand through his hair. “How long will I need to keep this on, then?”

“’Bout two months,” Dr. Knight says, giving him an apologetic smile. “Hey, at least it’s not your dominant hand, right?”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” Niall laughs. “Seriously, I appreciate it, doc.”

“It’s no problem,” Dr. Knight assures him. “Least I could do for Alma. I’ll let you go, though. I’m sure your kids are worried sick.”

“OK, awesome,” Niall sighs, jumping off the bed. “Thanks for everything.”

“Oh, hey,” Dr. Knight digs through his coat pocket and hands Niall a business card. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call whenever.”

“I will, thank you,” Niall smiles, taking the card from him. 

“Obviously, keep the cast as dry as you can,” Dr. Knight starts to lead him in the direction of the waiting room. “Alma has all the information you’ll need, although you’re fortunate enough to have a doctor in your life that’ll keep you in check.”

“Ah, don’t remind me,” Niall groans, distractedly tapping at his cast. “I won’t get her off my back for months.”

“You’ll be just fine,” Dr. Knight assures him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It was nice to finally meet you, Niall. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

“Oh, right,” Niall says, stupidly unable to respond before Dr. Knight turns a corner and disappears. 

He braces himself before he starts walking again, weary of how distraught the twins probably still are and how much Alma will hover throughout the next few weeks. 

“Papi!” the twins yell before they run toward him. They immediately start asking questions, and they hold on tightly to his legs so he isn’t able to move.

“I’m fine, babies,” Niall assures them, running a hand down Robbie’s hair as he struggles to walk forward. 

“Papi, you almost died!” Annie says, voice already wobbly and eyes filling with tears. “I saw you!”

“It was just a scratch, darling,” Niall says. “Come on, then. Stop crying now, I’m fine.”

“Papi, does it hurt?” Robbie asks between sniffs. 

“Oh, only a little,” Niall assures him. Robbie’s frown deepens.

“Come on, baby,” Alma picks Robbie up. “Let’s go home, hmm?”

“Papi, I love you,” Annie breathes a shaky breath in and grabbing his good hand in her little one. 

“Me too,” Robbie says.

“I love you too,” Niall sighs, squeezing Annie’s hand. 

He catches Alma’s eye, and she doesn’t have to say anything for him to understand that she does too.

~

“How do you feel?” Alma whispers so as not to wake up the children, who are sleeping soundly between them in Niall’s bed. 

“The pain killers helped,” Niall admits, running a light hand down Annie’s hair. “I’m mostly annoyed, I think.”

“Of course,” Alma snorts. “Let me guess—you also haven’t told anyone.”

“My parents are coming tomorrow anyway,” Niall says, growing defensive. “No reason to wake them up or anything.” 

“Harry?” Alma raises an eyebrow.

“He’d just worry,” Niall sighs once again, shifting a bit on his back. “Besides, I think we might be fighting.”

“Seriously?” Niall doesn’t turn around to see her expression, but she sounds surprised. “He seems so…affable.”

“It was a misunderstanding,” Niall shrugs. “There’s something about him, where I find myself…doing all kinds of stupid shit.”

“You and Harry are good together, Niall,” Al assures him, reaching across the bed to run a hand through his hair the way that still makes his skin prickle pleasantly. “I think you compliment each other.”

“He’s much too cool for me,” Niall admits, probably for the first time out loud. 

“So was I and I think we’re doing pretty good,” Alma says. Niall shoots her a look. “OK, well, I didn’t say we were perfect. And besides, I think you two make more sense.”

He shoots her a confused look. Whenever Niall’s stopped long enough to think about them, about the ways in which they’ve become entwined so deeply against each other, he doesn’t understand why it’s been so easy. 

“Do you think he’s awake right now?” Al asks, seeming to read Niall’s mind. 

“It’s late,” Niall mumbles, unlocking his phone anyway. 

“Or early,” Alma shifts so she lies on her side. “If you think you’ve fucked up, don’t let it fester. You know how that goes.”

Niall looks up at the ceiling, nervously tapping at his sternum. 

“And if you’re gonna freak out internally,” Alma sighs. “Please do that in the living room, honey.”

He huffs, mock irritated, but she’s already closed her eyes. As quiet as he can, he makes his way out of the bedroom and into the living room. When Harry picks up after the fifth ring, he sounds a bit breathless.

“Hi,” Niall says, something fluttering in the pit of his stomach. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Somewhat but,” Harry lets out a breath. “I’m glad you called.”

“I’m sorry about the past few days,” Niall sighs, settling down on the couch. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“I know you didn’t,” Harry says. “I got testy, you know, because I know we haven’t really talked about…We keep avoiding this conversation, don’t we?”

“I’m not that great at talking, H,” Niall lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “But I just wanted you to know that…I wouldn’t think of you less if you were to, um, fool around.” Niall winces. “That kind of stuff…It’s physical, you know? And, um, I know you travel a lot—God, I’m fucking this up again, aren’t I?”

“I don’t think you are,” Harry hums thoughtfully. “And I’ll be honest, I haven’t been in an exclusive, monogamous relationship since I was eighteen.”

“Shit,” Niall brings his thumb to his mouth and starts gnawing at his cuticle. “That’s a long time.”

“You’ve only been in one relationship,” Harry points out, not unkindly. “And since when is experience conducive to healthy relationships? Some people are only ever with one other person for their whole lives.”

“This might be a conversation for another time,” Niall sighs, shifting a bit. “You’ve got work, and I should go to sleep soon.”

“But we will talk about this when I get home,” Harry assures him, and his use of the word ‘home’ is not lost on Niall. “Speaking of—”

“Yeah?” Niall mumbles, nail in his mouth.

“Stop biting your nails,” Harry urges him, and Niall frowns but takes his finger out of his mouth. “I was a bit upset with you, so I extended my trip a few days. I’m visiting some friends in London.”

“Um,” Niall looks down at his damp cast. “I’m sure we can manage without you for a bit longer.”

“I am coming back,” Harry reminds him. “Whatever it is we’re doing, wherever we decide this is going, I’m planting myself there, at least for a little while. I’m quite sick of couch surfing; it’s not very good for my back, is it?”

“You have a very bad back,” Niall agrees, a smile involuntarily spreading over his lips.

~

His mother is furious with him when she sees his wrist.

“You irresponsible boy,” she says before giving him a tight hug. “Oh, my darling, what happened to you?”

“Papi fell off the roof, Gramma,” Annie says from her perch on Niall’s father’s arms. 

“You what?!” his mom pulls back and the look she gives him makes him wish he had broken something more important than his wrist last night.

“Gramma!” Robbie runs up to them and pushes himself between Niall and Maura. “Gramma, Papi fell off the roof!” 

“Niall James Horan,” Maura starts, bending down to pick up Robbie in her own arms. “We’re not finished, young man.”

“I’m almost thirty,” Niall sighs, exchanging a look with his dad, who just shrugs.

Throughout the rest of the day, everyone treats him like he’s completely incapacitated. No one lets him lift a finger, and he keeps getting shooed away from the grill, so he really has nothing to do but watch as his children play around with their cousins and friends.

“Bro,” he hears before he feels a hand clap him on the shoulder. He knows it’s Zayn from his cologne, and when he turns, he spots Fatima giving Alma a big hug, little Saliha in her arms. Zayn drapes himself over Niall’s back where he’s sitting on one of the patio chairs he had been forced into earlier. “Gnarly cast.”

“Ugh,” Niall groans, and Zayn presses a sloppy kiss against his cheek before pulling away. “There’s still some room left for you to draw. The twins got a bit excited, but I insisted.”

“Thanks, bro,” Zayn sighs, settling down on the patio chair next to Niall. “You’re being antisocial.”

“No one lets me do anything,” Niall groans, holding his broken wrist out like he can throw it away. “And the kids got bored playing doctor and I can’t drink because of my pain killers.”

“Just chill, man,” Zayn shoots him a lazy smile. “Can’t believe you fell off a roof.”

“Fuck off,” Niall laughs.

“Shh,” Zayn closes his eyes and leans his head back. “Think of the children.”

“I hate you,” Niall sighs, and closes his eyes.

~

Later, the twins choose to sit next to Niall during dinner instead of with their younger cousins or friends, which secretly thrills Niall to no end. Niall alternates with his dad in holding the twins in his lap, and when it's time to break the piñata, Niall’s got more food on his lap than in his stomach.

Niall stands up to join the twins, and Niall’s dad stands up, which probably means he’ll get a stern talking-to. Or as stern of a talking-to as Bobby Horan can manage. 

“Did they ask for a stormtrooper piñata?” Bobby asks, and Niall groans in anticipation, “Or was that your doing?”

“Go on, Bob,” Niall grumbles, taking a sip from his soda. “Pretend you didn’t see Empire Strikes Back three times in the theater.” 

“I know your mother got after you earlier,” Bobby changes the subject. “But I’m worried too. You should have called. Or left a message—you know I wake up early.”

“I’m sorry you worried,” Niall mumbles down at his feet. He can’t apologize for falling or for breaking his wrist—he’s learned to stop apologizing for stuff that is not his fault. “But now you know, and Ma didn't lose sleep with worry over something she couldn’t control.”

“You’re a considerate man,” Bobby says, earnestly and in such a familiar way that it makes something prickle in the back of Niall’s eyeballs. He doesn’t have time to think about how much he misses having his parents close, but when he does, it bangs like a drum in his chest cavity. “Allie’s called. Says you got someone to take care of you now.”

“I’ve told you about Harry,” Niall prickles at the assumption that Alma has been telling his parents secrets he’s kept. He hasn’t. Maura knows a lot about Harry. Harry doesn’t know they know, but he will. “What has Al told you about Harry that I haven’t told you?”

“That you love him,” Bobby says, as if it’s matter-of-fact, as if it’s an obvious truth that Niall should be aware of already, something mundane and hardly worth mentioning. 

“I didn’t tell her that,” Niall takes a shaky breath in. “She doesn’t know anything about that.”

“She would know, though, wouldn’t she?” Bobby says, not unkindly. “She’s had firsthand experience.”

“That wasn’t love,” Niall huffs petulantly. “She wasn’t in love with me.”

Niall knows, because he was in love with her. That’s why he gave her everything she asked for—a divorce, joint and very flexible custody, as much money as he can swing every month. He’s not in love with her anymore, because love, true and real love is reciprocated. But he was, and what he feels for Harry doesn’t feel anything like what he remembers feeling for Alma. 

“We’ve only been dating—really dating—for five months,” Niall explains, growing defensive. “People don’t fall in love in five months.”

_I don’t fall in love in five months._

“I’m sorry I brought it up, son,” Bobby shoots him an apologetic smile and places a hand on Niall’s left shoulder.

“No, it’s…” Niall takes a deep steadying breath. “Let’s talk about this after the party, yeah?”

Bobby just nods, and he gives him a half hug before he moves on to talk to someone else but really to give Niall some space.

~

“Mom,” Niall mumbles. His mom is staying with him while his dad and his girlfriend are staying at a hotel nearby. Niall is sleeping in the living room while his mom takes his bed, but right now she’s running her hands through his hair, his head in her lap like he used to do when he was little and Greg had gone a tick too far with his teasing.

“My love,” she hums, scratching at the back of his neck with her neatly trimmed nails. 

“The kids…” Niall swallows, tries to talk through the lump in his throat. “They look…Do they look happy to you?”

“They are the happiest kids, darling,” Maura assures him, and Niall sinks into her touch more and more. 

“Mom, sometimes—” Niall stops, tears forming on the inner corners of his eyes now, embarrassing and hot. “I’m gonna wreck them somehow, Mom. I’m sure of it.”

“My love,” his mom’s hands stop moving, and Niall leans back and looks up at her. “I love you, but do stop being ridiculous.”

“Mom—” Niall starts. 

“Stop being vague, sweetheart,” Maura urges, not unkindly. “What’s the problem, now?”

“Harry,” Niall blurts out. “I think I’m moving too fast with him. The kids, they’re so—they’ve grown attached.”

“You’re being quite dramatic, darling,” Maura sighs, settling in more comfortably. 

“Mom—”

“They are five years old, love,” Maura explains. “They don’t understand what he is to you. If you are worried about how they’ll react if he leaves, I can assure you that they will be sad, but that they will forget, because they are five years old.”

“But—”

“My darling, you’re projecting,” Maura goes on. “And if you want to use the babies to justify a decision to protect your heart, that is your decision, my love, but it is your life, and you are allowed to take these kinds of risks.”

Niall lets out a shaky breath, because he knows she’s right, and he doesn’t know how to not be god damn anxious mess. He would like to say that he was a different person before his divorce, that the break-up of his marriage left him traumatized for any future romantic relationships. Maybe if that was the crux of it, he could work on his issues and figure things out from there. But that’s not it, and he’s always had problems with intimacy—that had been the subject of many of his fights with Alma when things started to turn sour. 

But his mother is right, and even if he and Harry do break up, it’s not going to be the end of the world. He’s gone through much worse, and setting himself up for potential heartbreak isn’t a sign of weakness. In any case, Harry, despite his aloofness and general laisez faire approach to life, seems quite careful when it comes to Niall and, if Niall allows himself to acknowledge this, Harry seems just as—for lack of a better word—enamored with Niall as Niall is with him.

“Thanks, ma.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

~

The Monday night after the party finds Niall in his bathroom, brushing his teeth after struggling to put the twins to bed. They’re still on their birthday high, and he spent twenty minutes longer teaching them some basic chords than he would have liked. He doesn’t hear any rough guitar strumming coming from their room, so he takes it as a win. 

He rolls his eyes at himself before switching off the light and stepping out of the bathroom. The kids hadn’t given him such a hard time before going to sleep tonight, so he’s left with a minute amount of energy that he can’t shake off. So he tries to read a graphic novel that Zayn had lent him a few months ago, to no avail, before he closes the book and opens his bedside drawer.

He had gotten a keychain shaped like the letter S to go with the copy of the house key he’d gotten made a few weeks ago. Harry always uses the key under the frog figurine next to the front door, and he’s never asked for a key to make it more convenient for him, but Niall had figured that it was time, and it was convenient for everyone involved, seeing as Harry spent so much time at his house anyway. 

Niall hasn’t told his parents that Harry had decided to move into his own apartment, mainly because he didn’t want their knowing looks and their pointed questions about what that means. In all honesty, Niall doesn’t know what that means, but most frighteningly, the possibility of a future with Harry around excites Niall more than he wants to admit. When he catches himself picturing future stuff, he stops the train of thought as fast as he can. Fantasies like those are never helpful, and they’re hardly productive. 

It’s not that Niall has been celibate for the past two years. He’s gone out a night or two, gone home with a few people, and even gone on a few dates. But Harry is the first person, as cheesy as it sounds, to hold Niall’s interest for long. Harry, who had tripped his way into Niall’s life and then clawed his way deeper and deeper inside his heart until there was no way for him to leave without leaving any marks. Sometimes, Niall resents him for this. 

He wants to call Harry. He doesn’t.

~

A few days before Harry is set to come back, Liam invites Niall out to lunch. It’s a Tuesday, and Liam suggests a place near his office, so Niall agrees, if somewhat reluctantly since he’s never had one-on-one time with Harry’s friends. Liam is the most harmless person Niall’s ever known, though, so he isn’t that worried. 

When Niall meets Liam at a deli in the city, Niall is thankful that Liam is so chatty that he doesn’t have to begin with any awkward small talk. Liam fills him in on work and his new girlfriend and Niall just nods and orders his BLT, relieved that he doesn’t really have to fill in any silences. Once they sit down, though, Liam starts eating his own sandwich and raises his eyebrows pointedly at Niall, who has a mouthful of sandwich.

“Yeah?” Niall mumbles through his food. 

“What’s up with you?” Liam asks before popping a fry into his mouth. “How are you, bro?” 

“I’m all right,” Niall says with a shrug. “Um.”

“How’s your arm?” Liam asks, and Niall wants to roll his eyes. “Bro, it looks so scary.”

“It’s fine, Liam,” Niall resigns himself to have to continue this conversation and puts his sandwich down. “Please don’t tell Harry about this, all right? I’ll tell him when he gets back.”

“I’m not very good at keeping secrets,” Liam frowns. “But I’ll try.”

“Just don’t tell Louis,” Niall says dryly. “From how much I know him, he’s got a big mouth.”

“Oh, he’s not so bad,” Liam argues. “He’s just very…involved.”

“He’ll be back in a few days anyway,” Niall sighs, picking his sandwich back up. “Don’t want to upset him before he evens gets back to the country.”

“I’ll try,” Liam shovels more fries into his mouth, but Niall rolls his eyes in recognition. “Louis has ears everywhere, though.”

“A bit annoying, he is,” Niall hums, sorting through his fries. 

It only takes Niall a second to realize what he’s said, and if processing his words weren’t enough to make him feel like shit, Liam’s sad face would have been enough. 

“I’m sorry,” Niall coughs once, looking down at his food. “That was a bit harsh, wasn’t it?”

“You just don’t know him like I do,” Liam shrugs, and he grabs at a fry before thinking better of it. “But that’s why we’re here, right? So we can hang out and then be friends?”

It’s such a sincerely sweet response that Niall can’t help but smile. “Yeah, Liam.”

“And don’t worry,” Liam nods once before picking his sandwich back up. “Louis went on an impromptu trip to Legoland with Freddie.”

“Sounds right,” Niall snorts, and Liam lets out a full laugh.

“We should plan a trip,” Liam perks up on his seat. “With all the kids. Disneyworld maybe. I really want to go to Harry Potter world.”

“That one’s at Universal,” Niall smiles. 

“They’re both in Florida, though, aren’t they?” Liam scrunches his big eyebrows together. 

“Yeah, Liam,” Niall takes a sip of water. “That would be nice. I haven’t taken the twins on an extended trip; they haven’t been old enough to really enjoy them.”

“Oh, Disney would be great, wouldn’t it?” Liam gushes, perking up. 

Niall nods, and they fall into a comfortable silence, and it isn’t until Liam stands up to leave that Niall thinks of something.

“Hey, Liam?” Niall asks, frowning at his empty plate. “What kind of real estate do you work with?”

“Well,” Liam places his hands on his hips, thinking. “I mostly work within the city proper. A lot of apartments, condos, that sort of thing.”

“You don’t show houses?” Niall asks, frowning.

“Sure,” Liam nods, scratching at his stubble. “But I mostly work with younger people. They don’t tend to look for houses, you know? No one under the age of 45 is really looking for houses these days.”

Niall hums. 

~

Harry doesn’t try to call while he’s in London. He sends messages and photos and asks for photos in return, but he doesn’t pretend that he’s got any free time to call. Niall can’t pretend that he isn’t grateful. He decided not to tell Harry about his broken wrist, because he knows Harry will worry and get an earlier flight back, which would be ridiculous and unnecessary. A little voice in the back of his head tells him he flatters himself, and asks him why Harry would do such a ludicrous thing for Niall of all people. Whenever that voice gets especially loud, he pulls up Harry’s message thread on his phone.

_I’m quite drunk and so I felt the need to tell you that I miss you so and the babies and I can’t wait to bite the beautiful butt of yours_

After that message Harry had sent a string of peach emojis, which had been embarrassing but also oddly flattering. Harry never, ever uses emojis. 

In any case, he doesn’t have time to worry too much, because May is one of the busiest times of the year for him anyway. And with his broken arm, he’s got people hovering so constantly, the only alone time he has is when he’s going to sleep.

The Wednesday before Harry’s supposed to touch down, and the day after his lunch with Liam, Niall arrives at his house a lot later than he normally would. Alma has picked up the children, and Niall has spent all day making house calls and doing an inordinately large amount of exhausting emotional labor. His first house call of the day was with a Guatemalan family whose father had been unceremoniously deported. The only reason the family had even known he was gone was because one of his co-workers had called the mother in a panic. Niall spent an embarrassing twenty minute long ride to another house wiping angry tears from his face.

His second house call was much less sad, but one of the children of the house had accidentally run into Niall and made him spill his coffee on his clothes. Fortunately, he is used to this, so he had a pair of really old jeans and a ratty UCSD t-shirt in his trunk. When he walks through the door, he’s exhausted, and holding an embarrassingly full bag of Chinese takeout and paperwork. He’s almost too tired to notice that the lamps are on, but when he does, his heart stops. 

He tries to be as quiet as possible when he puts his food and his paperwork on the floor. “Shit,” he mumbles, struggling to untangle his pepper spray keychain from his backpack. He thinks better of it and turns to step outside when he hears some shuffling. He turns around sharply, pepper spray gripped in his good hand.

“You’re late,” Harry mumbles, standing in the threshold between the living room and the hallway to the bedrooms. He’s squinting, as if he’s just woken up from a nap, and he’s wearing a pair of UCSD sweatpants he’d bought that week he’d decided to buy as much gear from Niall’s alma mater as he could and not much else. “I was trying to stay awake, but you never showed.”

“You’re not supposed to be back until Sunday,” Niall counters, still tense. “I didn’t know you were waiting.”

“I was trying to surprise you,” Harry sighs, expression softening.

“I hate surprises,” Niall reminds him.

“Jesus,” Harry’s eyes fall on Niall’s arm, which Niall tries unsuccessfully to hide. Harry crosses the distance between them and gently grabs hold of Niall’s arm. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“I fell,” Niall tries, but Harry’s expression doesn’t soften this time. “Off a roof. Look, it’s not a big deal—” 

“When did this happen?” Harry asks.

“Why does it—” mumbles but Harry’s look stops him short. “The night before the party. The twins’ ball landed on the roof, and I—I took a wrong step.”

“So this happened a week ago, and you just decided not to tell me,” Harry summarizes, and the way he’s saying this is so _unfair_ and Niall is so fucking exhausted and, quite frankly, sad.

“I didn’t do it to hurt your feelings,” Niall snaps, scrunching his eyes closed, afraid more frustrated tears will come out. “I didn’t want you to worry—that’s it.”

“What’s so wrong with me worrying about you?” Harry asks, and Niall can’t keep standing in the middle of his living room getting yelled at. Harry follows him to the kitchen and keeps talking anyway. “Why do you keep things from me? It’s like you’re still keeping me at a distance—”

“I don’t do any of this on purpose!” Niall slams the food on the counter. “You think this is easy for me? Any of this?”

“I have no idea,” Harry argues. “You won’t tell me. Getting a real emotion out of you is like—is like—I can’t think of a good simile, but it’s fucking hard!”

“Real emotion?” Niall scoffs. “You’re really one to talk.”

“OK, there it is,” Harry nods. “Come on, let it out. We’re finally done letting it fester, yeah?”

“Fuck you,” Niall snaps. “I’m not one of your projects, and making me angry isn’t one of your stupid milestones.”

“Do you really think I would manipulate you like that?” Harry asks, and he looks genuinely insulted and hurt. “This whole thing started because you refuse to be honest with me, because you want to control everything, including me.”

“That’s a bit of a stretch, isn’t it?” Niall rolls his eyes, walking past Harry toward the back door. He needs air.

“You didn’t tell me you broke your wrist, because you thought I would worry,” Harry follows close behind. “I would have, and sure, I probably would have wanted to get an earlier flight back. But why is that a bad thing?”

“Because I can’t be the reason you change your plans!” Niall snaps, and that’s the crux of everything, isn’t it? Harry is already getting a shitty apartment in a city that is at least ten times less glamorous than any of the other places he could easily travel to if he didn’t have attachments like a boyfriend and two little kids who miss him terribly when he’s gone. Alma had changed her plans for Niall once before, and Niall refuses to make someone put their life on hold for him again.

“Hey,” Harry starts, and he’s got that expression that means that Harry’s about to say something that isn’t total bullshit. Niall panics. 

Niall leans forward and kisses him.

Immediately, Harry responds, and his whole body seems to just react to Niall’s contact. Niall surprises himself by letting himself be lifted by Harry, just like the first time they had spent the night together. Harry surprises by falling on his knees and laying Niall gently on the ground beneath.

“What do you want?” Harry asks against Niall’s mouth when he presses him down on the grass.

“Um,” Niall pants, frowning up at Harry. “I—what are you doing?”

“If I take the time to take you to bed,” Harry mumbles against Niall’s neck, “you’ll change your mind.”

Niall doesn’t respond to that, distracted by Harry’s lips on his own, running his hands down Harry’s bare back, the strength he’s missed while Harry was gone. He’s shocked when Harry pulls back and swiftly drags Niall’s t-shirt off him, throwing it somewhere over Niall’s head. Just as abruptly, Harry stops his movements to frown down at Niall, “Did I hurt you?”

“Huh?” Niall frowns back, then feels Harry’s thumb rub over a spot above his cast. Instead of responding, he brings Harry’s head down again to continue kissing. Harry takes he hint and shifts his focus to unbuttoning Niall’s jeans, one hand still running soothing circles on Niall’s forearm. 

When Niall gets a hand on Harry, Niall feels Harry’s teeth catch on his earlobe. “Ni,” Harry’s voice goes high and reedy when Niall’s thumb runs over the head. “Niall, I missed you.”

“Shut up,” Niall gasps, Harry’s hand twisting in a way that makes Niall’s brain short-circuit. 

“I missed your skin,” Harry ignores him and bites at Niall’s collarbone. “You’re so beautiful.” 

“Shut up, H,” Niall whines just as Harry’s hand speeds up. 

“Niall, don’t—” Harry gasps just as Niall feels him tense up and spill on his hand. “Don’t close your eyes, Niall, look at me.”

“Harry, stop it,” Niall chokes out, feeling a prickle in the back of his eyes. For a moment, Harry does, his lips going from Niall’s lips and down to his chest, where he kisses and kisses and kisses until Niall’s body finally goes taught. 

“Niall,” Harry whispers against Niall’s neck, rubs a soothing hand up Niall’s belly. “Babe, come on, I want to fix this, still.” 

As if his body can’t hold the weight of Niall’s wretchedness, Niall falls completely on the grass. “I should have given you a key to the house,” he admits, running his good hand through his hair. “I had one made, but I never gave it to you.”

“You’re very good at keeping secrets,” Harry supplies, taking a seat next to Niall. “But I’m very good at ignoring things I find unpleasant. I don’t tend to go beyond surface level.”

“I think I liked that about you,” Niall says, playing with a blade of grass. “Meant I could be whatever I wanted to be around you. Just the good bits.”

“Is this our first big fight?” Harry asks, surprising Niall by not making a lewd joke about his bits. “I’ve never had one before. At least not with someone I was—you know—”

“Yeah, H,” Niall mumbles, suddenly even more exhausted. “This was a pretty big fight.”

“Well, now that that’s out of the way—”

“I think you should sleep at Gemma’s tonight,” Niall surprises himself by saying.

Niall cannot see so much as feel Harry tense up on top of him. “Oh.”

“I’m tired, H,” Niall sighs, standing up and pushing Harry away in the process. “And I need time to think.”

“How much time?” Harry asks from his place on the ground. His eyes look unnaturally shiny under the moonlight. 

“I don’t think I’m at a place—” Niall starts, focusing on not letting his words break. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“But that’s OK,” Harry says, clumsily stumbling back up. “We’re not—we’re taking it as it goes, right? We talked about it; it’s one day at a time.”

“I don’t think I’m very good at that,” Niall lets out a humorless laugh. “You’ve been, you know, the best person, but I can feel myself spiraling a little bit.”

“And you think pulling away from me is still the best course of action?” Harry asks, voice small.

“I don’t know what else to do,” Niall admits, and when Harry shuffles forward to wrap him in a hug, he’s grateful that Harry can’t see his eyes tearing up. “But I don’t think I can keep you.”

“You’re making a mistake,” Harry mumbles against Niall’s cheek. “But I don’t think I can talk you out of it right now.”

Niall wants to thank him, to say anything that isn’t stupid and gibberish, but he knows whatever comes out of his mouth will sound embarrassingly shaky. Instead, he squeezes Harry’s torso just a little bit and breathes in.

~

When Niall wakes up the next morning, he knows he’s made a mistake.

They say hindsight is 20/20, and Niall can acknowledge, hours after the fact, that he was too overwhelmed to deal with Harry’s surprise presence, and that the only reason he blew up the way he did was a lack of preparation. He hates surprises. 

When Harry doesn’t pick up, Niall figures he’s most likely to get lucky if he talks to him face to face. Harry deserves more than a phone call after how Niall had behaved yesterday, so Niall decides the least he can do is jog to Gemma’s and apologize in person. 

Niall expects for Gemma to be somewhat standoffish, seeing as Harry is her brother, and Niall had been more than a little hurtful. He expects Harry to be somewhat distant—Niall had basically broken up with him in a fit of panic. Niall expects to have to work for it, quite frankly, and when he knocks on the door, he braces himself for more than a bit of groveling.

What he doesn’t expect is Gemma’s pitiful look when she opens the door, baby in one arm. He doesn’t expect her to tell Niall he’s just missed Harry on his way to the airport, or that she doesn’t exactly understand where Harry had told her he was going, only that it was somewhere in Mexico. In fact, Niall is so shocked, he stays in a half catatonic state as he gets to work and spends the first half of his day taking phone calls. 

When he steps outside, because Minnie had gently suggested he take lunch outside after seeing his glazed eyes, he blinks once, twice, and finally understands what’s happened. 

His breathing starts coming in short panicked bursts, his eyes start prickling with tears, and he feels as though his heart is going to jump out of his chest. He doesn’t want to cry in the middle of the street, so he rushes to the Starbucks a few doors over and locks himself in the restroom.

~

He clocks out early, because he rarely does, and everyone in the office has been giving him pitying looks all day. Niall doesn’t think he could get work done if he tried, anyway, so he calls the kids’ grandmother to tell her he’ll be picking up the kids at school this afternoon. 

When the twins see him at the designated waiting spot with the rest of the parents, they speed up and squeal in excitement.

“Papi!” the twins yell at his ear as Niall squeezes them as tightly as he can. 

“Papi, you’re here!” Annie says before kissing him on the cheek. “Papi, I love you.”

“I love you too, petal,” Niall says, trying to keep his voice steady. “What do you say about going for pizza?”

They gasp, shocked and thrilled, and Niall pulls them in for another hug. He presses quick kisses to the tops of their heads and tries to memorize their smell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry :)


End file.
